


And a Time to Love

by The Neon Gang (clgfanfic)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: ATF Denver AU, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/The%20Neon%20Gang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is drugged and is running out of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And a Time to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Seven Card Stud #16. (There is a gen version - And a Time to Die.)
> 
> Based on the "DOA" episode of Counterstrike.
> 
> Continues in "Love's a Bitch."

          The police officer in the lead cruiser slammed his fist down on his horn, a slow-moving pickup lurching ahead and then finally pulling over to the curb.  The patrol car sped past, the trailing ambulance right on its rear bumper.  A dark red Jag trailed the paramedics.

          Reaching Summit Hospital and Trauma Center, the DPD officer headed straight for the wide emergency bay, squealing to a stop just far enough ahead of the doors so the trailing ambulance could park in front of them.

          Behind the ambulance the Jag also stopped, two men climbing out, moving straight to the rear of the ambulance, their guns out and in their hands.  Their eyes scanned the area around the ER, making sure that there were no threats to the precious cargo inside.

          The paramedic who had been driving the ambulance climbed out and jogged to the rear of the vehicle, pulling open the door and reaching in to drag out the gurney inside.  The second medic jumped down behind it, an IV bag in his hand.

The wheels on the gurney dropped down and locked into place, and, moments later, they were moving toward the doors, which whisked open with a soft hiss.

          Inside, they were met by several nurses and two doctors.  "Triage Three," one of the physicians said, leading the way into the nearby room.

          As soon as the gurney cleared the door, one of the nurses stepped up, stopping the two armed men from following it into the triage room.  "I'm sorry, but you'll need to wait out here," she told them, her gaze flicking nervously from the men's faces to their drawn weapons.

          One of the men, a handsome, dark-haired fellow, nodded, but he didn't look too happy about it.

          Seeing that they intended to follow her order, she turned and slipped back into the triage room.

          The two DPD officers joined the two armed men, the older of which said, "I want at least one uniformed officer stationed outside his door until further notice, understood?"

          The two officers nodded, taking up positions on either side of the door, both men glancing nervously at one another.  They might not know who the victim was, but it was obvious he was important.

          The older man who had given them the order stepped away, reaching for the cell phone in his jacket pocket as he did.  His younger partner reached up, running his hand over his face and asking softly, "How do we tell Mr. Tanner?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Byron Rogers Federal Building**

**Denver, Colorado**

 

          In the office of the ATF's Team Seven, a telephone rang.  And, after lobbing a wadded up piece of paper at Buck, Vin snatched up the receiver, saying, "Agent Tanner, ATF."  The smile the handsome man had been wearing disappeared an instant later, a change which immediately apprehended the attention of the other two men in the room.  "Yeah, okay," Vin said, and a few seconds later, he asked, "Where are ya?"

          The thickening of the sniper's accent told the men who were listening that something was definitely wrong.

          "We'll be there soon as we can," Vin said and hung up.  He looked over at Buck, asking, "Where's Nathan?"

          "He took Raine for an ultrasound," he reminded the sniper.  "Why?  What's wrong?"

          Vin ignored the questions, rising and grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair.  He pulled it on.  "Call 'im.  Tell 'im t' meet us at Summit," he said, adding, "Let's go."

          "Vin, what's going on?" JD asked, scrambling out from behind his desk to follow the sniper from the office, Buck hot on Dunne's heels.

          "Trouble," was all the sniper said.  It was all he could say.  Chris had been shot with some kind of dart, his vitals were crashing…  He could feel the cold sweat breaking out all over his body, but he ignored it, stalking straight for the elevator.  He could hear Buck's and JD's voices washing over him as they waited for the car to arrive, but he couldn't make out a single word they were saying.

Chris had been shot.

Chris might be dying, and, if he did, Vin was pretty sure he might just slip away as well.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Women's Health Collective**

 

          Nathan sat, holding his wife's hand, as they stared at the images of their first and, as of yet, unborn child.

          "Everything looks perfectly normal," the obstetrician said, smiling at the happy couple.  "So, do you want to know if it's a boy or a girl this time?" she asked them.

          "Yes!" Nathan said at the same time as Raine said, "No!"  The couple looked at each other and burst into giggles.  The doctor just grinned, leaning back and waiting.

          "It doesn't matter," Nathan said, "but…"

          "I already know," Raine said softly, her eyes filled with love for her husband.

          "You do?" Nathan asked, surprised.

          She nodded, then glanced over at the OB, saying, "It's a little girl.  I can feel it."

          The physician nodded.

          Nathan's jaw dropped open.  "A little girl?" he breathed, goose bumps breaking out across his skin.  He was going to be a daddy, have a daughter, before too much longer.

          The doctor nodded again, smiling at the man's stunned expression.

          Jackson's cell phone began to play a Doobie Brothers tune and he quickly fished it out of his pocket and opened it, saying, "Uh, yeah, hello?"

          Raine watched as her husband's expression clouded with worry and he said, "Okay, I'll be there as soon as I get Raine home…  Yeah, I will.  You, too."

          Nathan closed the phone and turned to the doctor.  "Are we done?"

          The doctor nodded, then looked at Raine and added, "I'd like to see you again next month."

          "Okay," Raine said, sitting up with Nathan's help.  As soon as the doctor had left, she looked at Nathan and asked, "What is it?"

          "I'm not sure yet.  I need to get over to Summit."

          Her eyes rounded.  "Is someone hurt?  Who—?"

          "I'll call you when I know what's going on," he told her, helping her off the examination table and waiting while she gathered up her clothing so she could dress.

          She could see he was worried.  "Nathan, go on and go.  I'll call Shay and have her take me home when I'm done here."

          Indecision warred briefly, then he asked, "Are you sure?"

          She nodded.  "Go," she said.  "I need to get dressed and then make another appointment, and I have to go pick up some more vitamins from the pharmacy, so it's going to be a while."

          "What if Shay's busy?" he asked, wanting to make sure she got home safely.

          "Then I'll call Tina," she replied matter-of-factly.  "What are you waiting for?"

          He nodded, then leaned over and kissed her.  "You're a saint," he said.

          She grinned.  "I'll remind you that you said that, the next time I get a craving for a Wendy's cheeseburger at two in the morning."

          He grinned, kissed her again, then bolted out the door.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Summit Hospital and Trauma Center**

 

          Vin, Buck, and JD hurried into the ER, immediately spotting their two worried-looking teammates.  They hurried over to join them.

          "Any news?" Buck asked anxiously.

          Ezra shook his head.  "They took him… somewhere," he said, shaking his hand in the direction of the treatment rooms, obviously rattled.  "We got him here as quickly as we could, but…"

          Josiah stepped up next to Vin, resting his hand on the sniper's shoulder as he said, "They still don't know if he's going to make it.  They haven't been able to get him stabilized."

          Vin visibly paled more, something the other agents would have sworn was impossible, but he drew a deep breath and asked, "Travis?"

          "Still in court," Josiah replied.  "I left a message with his secretary, and with the prosecutor's office."

          "Gentlemen," a voice called.

          They turned to find Dr. Vivika Sahir walking up to join them.  The tall, slender physician did not look happy.

          "Doc, how is he?" Buck asked her.

          "His vitals have finally stabilized, but we're keeping him in ICU for now," she told them in her slightly accented voice.  "Michael Levine is with him right now.  Mike's one of our specialists in toxicology."

"The dart?" Josiah asked her.

She nodded.  "It's being analyzed," was all she could offer them.  "If you'll come with me, I'll take you to see him."

          "I'll wait here for Nathan, then come find you," Josiah told them.

          "Third floor," Dr. Sahir told him.  "Ask at the nurses' station and they'll point you in the right direction."  The doctor started off, realizing that she hadn't needed to tell Josiah that; all the men on Team Seven were well acquainted with Summit.

The agents trailed after her like a line of baby ducks.

Vin, at the head of the line, was shaking, his hands vibrating like he had a bad case of stage fright.  He shoved them into his pockets to keep the others from noticing, but he knew it was probably too late for that.  They all knew he and Larabee were close, that their friendship had sprung up immediately, with a depth that usually required years to reach.  But none of them, Vin hoped, knew just how deeply feelings ran, at least for him.  He had been dreading the day it was Chris who was the one who had been rushed here…

That day had arrived, and the sniper was positive he was not prepared.  Not prepared to lose the one man he'd allowed himself to fall in love with.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The room Vivika led them to was larger than a normal ICU unit, but was still cramped, especially with four agents trying to crowd in around Chris' bed.

          "Mike," Dr. Sahir said by way of introductions, "these are Agent Larabee's men."

          Michael Levine looked too young to be a specialist in anything, but the ATF agents knew he must be, or he wouldn't be working at Summit.  Levine stuck out his hand and Ezra, being the closest, shook it, saying, "Doctor, what can you tell us?"

          "Not a whole lot at the moment.  I'm sorry," he stated, but the men weren't watching him anymore; their attention was on the nurse, who was carefully cleaning up a cut on Chris' forehead.  The unconscious man was hooked up to a heart monitor and had two clear IVs running.  On one side of Larabee's neck was a large, ugly, purple-black bruise.

          Clearing his throat, Levine added, "He's stabilized, for now, and we're running tests to see if we can determine what was in the dart he was shot with.  Until then, we'll monitor him carefully and wait.  I'm afraid that's all we can do, really."

          Josiah and Nathan appeared in the doorway, Orrin Travis behind them.  "Gentlemen, we need to talk," the assistant director said matter-of-factly.

          The others filed from the room, Nathan slipping in once they were gone to speak to the two doctors and get a full understanding of what was happening so he could brief the team, and the AD.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Five minutes later, the agents and their AD were standing in a small break room on the third floor, the hospital staff having been politely asked by Travis to give them some privacy.

          "Doc said Chris is stabilized, for now," Buck told the older man.

          "I'm very glad to hear that," he replied, honest relief in his tone.  "Where's Mr. Jackson?"

          "No doubt trying to wring as much information from the doctors as he can manage," Ezra replied.

          "What happened?" Vin asked, his gaze darting from Ezra to Josiah to Travis.

          "Chris was called to testify first," Josiah explained.  "When he was done, he stepped outside to get some air."

          "It didn't go well?" Buck questioned, frowning slightly.  They all knew how volatile Larabee could be, but he rarely lost his cool in court.

          Ezra's expression turned slightly sour.  "Mr. Dower has some well-paid talent working for him.  No doubt they used all of their considerable skills to try and trip up Mr. Larabee during his testimony."

          "Given their expressions when I was called next, I doubt they succeeded," Travis replied dryly.  "But we can't assume that this has anything to do with Dower, or his trial."

          "Who else could it be?" JD asked.

          The others shot the youngest agent incredulous looks as Travis added, "Chris, and Team Seven, has a great many enemies, as you are all well aware."

          "But it's most likely related to Dower, given the timing," Josiah stated.

          "We should not have allowed Mr. Larabee to go out there alone," Ezra said, glancing back at the door.  "Samson Dower has followers everywhere."

          "Like the AD said, we don't know if Dower's the one responsible," Buck said, trying to ease Ezra's and Josiah's obvious guilt.

          "Ain't a coincidence Chris goes down right after we bring in the guy whose testimony will convict Dower on domestic terrorism 'n' murder."

          Travis nodded.  "But we need evidence, Mr. Tanner.  Get on it."

          "We should start with known associates of Mr. Dower," Ezra said.

          "Damn, Ez, you know better 'n most, Dower's cadre doesn't have more than six trained fanatics," Buck argued.  "And only Dower knows the men in his support groups, and he's in jail."

          "Think they wanted to exchange Andy Grant for Chris?" JD asked.  The existence of the witness was supposed to be unknown, but there was no way to plug all the leaks.

          "You can never tell with fanatics like this," Josiah replied, shaking his head.

          The others nodded their agreement with his assessment.  The conversation stopped as Nathan stepped in to join them.

          "Doctors say that whatever hit Chris might not have done what it was designed to do," Nathan told them.

          "Too close fer my taste," Vin replied, a sour-looking expression on his face.

          "Well, if it was supposed to kill him, it didn't," Nathan added.  "At least that's bought us some time."

          "Time t' find these assholes," Vin growled.

          "Watch out for yourselves," Travis cautioned them.  "This might be about the team, not Chris."

          "You think we might be next?" Buck asked him.

          "They seem to know who we are, where we'd be," Travis replied.

"Way I see it, we've got two options," Vin said.  "We sit tight 'n' wait fer 'em t' make their next move, or, we make ours."

"I can imagine your choice, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said, a small smile on his lips.

"Damn straight," Vin replied, anger overtaking the fear.  Chris was in good hands now.  If anyone could help him, it was the people here.  He'd been forced to trust them in the past, so he'd trust them now, and concentrate on finding out who was responsible.  And when he did, he'd make them pay – one way or another.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**University of Colorado**

**Boulder, Colorado**

 

In one corner of a well-appointed laboratory, there was a small television set resting on a shelf above the workspace.  It was currently playing the local news.

"…Police have called on federal authorities to help boost security at the federal courthouse.  This in preparation for the upcoming trial of accused homegrown terrorist Samson Dower.  Arrested by authorities last month after a lengthy undercover sting operation, Dower was charged with the bombings of two Planned Parenthood clinics, an all-Black elementary school, and a Spanish-language radio station.  Federal prosecutors are denying rumors that a surprise federal witness is the real key to their case…"

An older man looked up, frowning as he listened to the report.  He shook off a sudden sense of foreboding and said, "Turn that off.  It's all just propaganda, anyway.  I need that solution."  He gestured to a flask containing a clear, amber liquid.

A young woman walked over and turned off the TV, then picked up the flask and carried it over to the man, who was old enough to be her grandfather.

"You'll only make yourself crazy, watching that stuff," he told her, adding the solution to a yellow liquid he was working over, and then beginning to stir.

"They didn't mention the attack," she replied, her brow furrowed in a mixture of worry and anger.

"Did you really think they would?  They're fools.  Either they haven't diagnosed the symptoms yet, or they're trying to keep your attack quiet while they investigate who might be responsible."

"I just want to get this over with," she said pointedly, her words lightly accented, wishing he would hurry.

"Have a little patience, my dear.  This caper has been very profitable," he said, his expression turning decidedly hungry as he added, "And it _has_ brought us together, now, hasn't it?"

She nodded, but otherwise ignored him, watching as the liquid in the beaker he was now holding over a flame changed to a clear blue.

"Beautiful, don't you think?" he asked, holding it up.  "We're looking at our future with this little chemical.  A few more reagents, and this will reverse the progress of the poison, as well as the process, almost immediately upon being administered."  He set the beaker down and reached out, cupping her cheek and then dropping his hand to cup one of her small breasts.  "Are you sure your target will capitulate?"

"My father's intelligence has been very thorough," she replied, pressing herself against his palm.  Glancing at an open file folder that was lying on the top of the lab bench, she stared at the faces of the seven men who had taken her father away from her.  "They're all so predictable," she said quietly, shaking her head.

The old man chuckled, his fingers kneading her breast with a hunger that still surprised him.  He pulled her in to him, forcing a kiss on her, even though he could see she wasn't interested.  But then he felt her body begin to respond, which triggered his own reaction.  _Thank God for Viagra_ , he thought as he reached up under her shirt to unclasp her bra.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Summit Hospital and Trauma Center**

 

          Images assailed his consciousness, twisted and fuzzy…  He was standing out in front of the federal courthouse, wishing he hadn't given up smoking when Sarah had gotten pregnant.  He could really use a cigarette right now…

          For a moment the familiar pain of loss reared its head, but he wasn't able to latch onto it, hadn't really been able to for a few months now.  And that fact had awakened a new kind of guilt in the man.  How could it hurt _less_ to have lost his wife and son?  How could he ever _not_ feel the devastating anguish he'd slowly grown accustomed to?

But he knew how, and he knew why…  He just refused to think about them…  The images continued to play out around him, beyond his ability to control…

A woman leaving the courthouse caught his eye.  She was a little taller than Sarah had been, but she had the same color hair…

He felt his gut constrict a little, and the familiar cold fingers of loss squeezed his heart, though not as tightly as they once had.  It was comforting, somehow, to know he could still hurt, still mourn, but it bothered him that he didn't hurt as much as he used to.

He tried to look away from the woman, but his gaze was steadily drawn to the briefcase she was carrying.  It was just like the one Sarah had bought for him when he'd gone back to school, taking classes so he could enter the police academy all those years ago…

If he let himself, he knew he could remember every detail of the party they had thrown, just the three of them – Sarah, Buck, and himself – but the images kept rolling forward, pulling him unwillingly along with them, instead.

          The woman who looked like Sarah walked to the curb, climbed into one of the waiting cabs, and then, she was gone.  He watched the back of her head, almost but not quite wishing that this stranger had been the one who'd died, and Sarah was still alive, still waiting for him at home…

But he hadn't had thoughts like those for months now…

Shouldn't he still be having those thoughts?  He couldn't possibly hurt less, because, if he did, then he must not love her as much as he once had.

If he was falling in love with someone else, then he wasn't loving her, he wasn't honOrring her memory.  Right?

And if he was falling in love with a man, he was desecrating everything he and Sarah had once shared…  Wasn't he?

He glanced back at the building.  He could remember, not that long ago, when he'd wondered if the hole in his heart would ever heal, and desperately hoped that it didn't, because, somehow, if it did, he would have to face the fact that she was really gone, and gone for good.  And Sarah had been his life, the other half of his soul.  When she'd been murdered, a large part of him – the better part, he knew – had died right along with her.

          There was no way that hole could be healed.  Not ever.  He simply wouldn't allow it.

          After all, there were still nights when he found himself sitting in the darkness, contemplating eating a bullet, but, he had to admit, those nights had started falling farther and farther apart… the last having been months ago.

He resented it.

He needed that pain.  It was all he had left of Sarah, of Adam…  He couldn't allow anything to take it away from him – he wouldn't.

But ever since he'd accepted Orrin Travis' offer to build an SOG team for the ATF, the pain and loneliness had eased, there was no denying it.  Working with Team Seven had given him a sense of purpose again, provided him with a reason to go on living…  And that, he knew, made him feel guilty as well.

How could he want to live when Sarah was dead?  He wanted to be with her, and if that meant that he was dead as well, then, so be it.

          But it was getting harder and harder to believe that…

And he knew why, too.

          He watched as other people entered and left the federal courthouse while he thought about how his friendship with the team, with Vin, in particular, had filled some tiny part of the void that had been his life after Sarah and his son were killed.

He wasn't sure how, or why, or what it meant, but Tanner's friendship had eased a little bit of the pain he'd felt.

          But was that right?  Shouldn't he continue to hurt like he had?  If he didn't, wasn't it an indication that he didn't love Sarah as much as he once had?

          Damn, his thoughts were running in circles…  But how could a _friendship_ ever fill a hole left by the loss of a love?

Unless it was more than just friendship…

Unless it was another love that was filling the hole…

But that wasn't possible.  He'd never been attracted to another man, and he'd certainly never had sex with one.  Granted, there had been some youthful exploration, but that was normal.  It hadn't meant anything.  And when he's met Sarah…

 _That_ was real love.  True love.  No man could ever stand in the same place in his heart as she had.  It was impossible.

          And he was more than a little pissed that Tanner seemed to be trying to…  At least, he thought he might be…

          Movement in his peripheral vision captured his attention:  another woman, walking in his direction…  He started to turn his head, knowing without realizing it that he was seeing a gun in her hand.  But, by the time he'd turned his head to look at her, she had gotten two steps closer to him.

As he looked at her face, he noted the sunglasses she was wearing, so large they that gave her a slightly bug-eyed look that was a disconcerting.  But he could tell, even in the few seconds he had to look at her, that she was attractive.  Then he saw her arm begin to rise.

His gaze raced down the woman's moving limb and he saw, too late, that she was, indeed, holding a gun.

She fired.

A split second later, he felt the dart strike his neck, the impact snapping his head back.  Pain erupted like a volcano going off inside his neck, his throat, his head.  Immediately, he was falling, twisting, to try and protect himself from another strike.

The building undulated wildly in his rapidly darkening vision as he felt himself falling, still twisting even as he did.

He felt his forehead strike the concrete, and a new pain blasted through his consciousness, raw and electric.  It was all chaos, then, confusion, his senses overwhelmed.  Then, he saw feet, running toward him, and faces, all swimming in and out of focus.  And, as if from a long distance away, he heard Josiah's and Ezra's voices, and someone else, calling for an ambulance…

He began to spiral into an inky blackness that sucked the air from his lungs.  He struggled, fought, tried to hold on, but the force was too great and it carried him away, flinging him in circles like he was trapped inside a whirlpool, or some wild kids' carnival ride.

He disappeared into that blackness… only to bubble up through it again sometime later.  At least he thought it must be sometime later…

The swirling sensation upset his stomach, and, moments later, it rebelled.  He heaved, feeling the bile coming up his throat and burning over his tongue.  Again and again his stomach tried to turn itself inside out, but he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

He moaned, his fingers clawing for some kind of purchase.  Then he felt someone taking his hands, holding them, squeezing them in a reassuring way.  A cool cloth was wiped across his face.  It felt good, and he sighed softly, grateful for the kindness.

Someone called his name.

He knew he should recognize the voice, but he couldn't remember how to remember…  And his head hurt too much to try.

He heard it come again, though, and felt himself floating closer to an answer…  _Vin?_   He blinked, forcing too-heavy eyelids to rise.

A too-bright jumble of colors and movement met his burning eyes, and he immediately squeezed his eyes shut again as his stomach threatened to rebel once more.

"Chris?"

Yep, it was definitely Vin.  He'd recognize that worried drawl anywhere.  He knew he needed to open his eyes, needed to talk to the man, find out just what the fuck was going on, but he wasn't at all sure he was up to the task.

But he tried opening his eyes again, this time forcing himself to hold them open until the fuzzy swirl in his field of vision slowly resolved itself into something intelligible:  his men, all of them standing around… his bed?

"His eyes are open," he heard Buck say.

 _No shit, Sherlock_ , he thought back at the ladies' man, but he couldn't find his mouth to form thought into words.

He sensed rather than saw Vin move closer, then reach out and run his hand up and down along Larabee's arm.  "Chris, can y' hear me?" he asked.

Chris blinked once, then again, finally able to focus on Tanner's worried face.  "Yeah," he slurred thickly.  He felt something inside himself leap at seeing the man, and he wanted to slap it away.  It was _not_ what he should be feeling.  And the look Vin had leveled on him wasn't the kind of look a man was supposed to train on another man.  It just wasn't.

"Thank God," he heard Josiah say.

"Ya back with us?" Vin asked, still worried, but covering it up rather well, he must have thought.  Chris, however, could see the truth.

"Helluva way to get yourself a vacation, stud," Buck teased, but the worry in his voice was equally clear as well.  But _that_ was the right kind of worry.

"You had us all worried," Nathan added, not bothering to hide his own anxiety.

It took him a moment to process it all.  One, they were worried.  Two, they were worried about him.  Therefore, something must have happened to him.  Why else would Vin be sitting there, looking at him like he was some kind of life preserver, and Vin a drowning man.

"Where the hell am I?" he asked, trying to sit up, but it was immediately clear that he had little, if any, control over his limbs.

Vin stopped his efforts, his hand pressed lightly to his chest.  "Easy, Chris, y' hit yer head when y' fell.  Y' need t' lay still."

He almost smiled at that thick Texas drawl.  It was rarely that bad, but when Tanner was worried…  Oh, yeah, he remembered, they were all worried…  About him… especially Vin.

The blond frowned.  "I— I don't remember…  How long have I been out?"

"Almost two hours," JD supplied.

Chris reached up, rubbing gingerly at what he discovered was his now-bandaged neck.  "Feels like I got shot."

"The doctors pulled a small dart from your neck," Nathan told him.  "They're still running tests on it."

A dart?  But he'd seen a gun in her hand, hadn't he?  Had it just been a dart gun?

But why?

"Y' got any idea who did this t' ya, Chris?" Vin asked him, gaze intense, desperate, like he just might grab Larabee up and pull him into an embrace at any moment.

One part of the blond's mind welcomed the idea, another was repelled by it.

"No…  Wait…  I was… getting some air… out in front of the courthouse," he said, the images from earlier beginning to clarify in his mind.  Besides, trying to focus made it easier to ignore Tanner…  "We were… going to go over the final details of our reports with the prosecutor once Orrin's testimony was over…  I decided to get some air before we got started…"

"Chris," Vin interrupted, "I got a good look at that dart.  Whoever wanted t' nail y' had t' do it from almost point-blank range.  Ya remember anyone gettin' that close?"

"I… I don't know," Larabee replied, unsure if the images of the Sarah-look-alike and the other woman with the sunglasses were real, or just dream fragments.  "Maybe…  I'm not sure."

"Try to remember, stud," Buck pressed.

Chris frowned, trying to recall what had seemed so clear just a few seconds ago.  "There was someone… a woman, I think.  She was wearing big, dark glasses.  She was kind of pretty…"

"You remember that?" Ezra asked, slightly amused.

Vin frowned slightly.

"I think so," Chris replied, missing the tease.  "It's all pretty fuzzy, to tell you the truth."

          There was a sharp knock on the door before a DPD officer stepped into the doorway, holding a wrapped gift.  "This arrived for Agent Larabee a little while ago," the officer said.  "Your bomb boys have already had a peek at it.  They said it's pulsing, but apparently it's not going to explode."  He sounded dubious about that last part.

"Who knows he's here?" Ezra asked, frowning.

"Supposedly no one," Josiah replied.

"Well, maybe this'll give us an idea who does," Vin said, stepping over to take the six-inch-square box, complete with a bow, and a small gift card.  The sniper pulled the card off, saying, "Y' gotta love 'a surprise."  He handed the tiny envelope to Chris.

Chris fumbled a little, Nathan taking the card from him and opening it.  He pulled out the small, business-card-sized piece of paper inside, reading out loud, "Chris Larabee, get well soon."

"Didn't know anyone cared," the blond grumbled, then nodded to Vin.  "Go ahead, open it."

          The sniper unwrapped the box and lifted the lid.  "Here y' go," he said, pulling out a cheap digital watch, still inside its plastic case.  He handed it to Ezra, who had his hand out to receive it.

The undercover man removed the watch from its clear plastic case and examined it.  "It's not really you," Ezra commented, handing it to Chris.

"I hope not," the blond grumbled, peering suspiciously at the watch face, "it's running backwards."

JD leaned in to get a better look.  "Uh, it looks like some kind of a timer."

"More surprises," Vin said, pulling a small digital recorder from the box the watch had come in.  With another nod from Chris, he pressed the "play" button.

"Agent Larabee," a slightly accented female voice said, "welcome to the last day of your life.  You have been injected with a poison that is infecting your bloodstream, and your nervous system.  I know, because I delivered it, personally.  Do you remember?  You went down like a ton of bricks.  You'll be dead in twenty-four hours.  I possess the only antidote.  I offer you a simple trade:  your life for the traitor, Andy Grant.  If you do not turn Andy Grant over before he testifies against Samson Dower, you will die.  You will be contacted again with further instructions."

          Without a knock, Orrin Travis stepped into the room.  Seeing that Chris was awake, he headed straight to the man's bedside and looked down at him.  "How are you doing?"

          "I don't have a clue," Larabee replied truthfully.

Travis' gaze swept over the other agents.  "I just received a call from Samson Dower's lawyer, says Dower would like to talk…"

"Why?" JD asked.

"His lawyer couldn't explain, just said he represented Dower and Dower wanted to talk to someone from Team Seven… as long as it was done within the next twelve hours."

"He's most certainly behind this," Ezra stated flatly.

"The prosecutor isn't happy about it, but he's agreed to let one of us speak to Dower," Travis told them.

"I should be the one," Ezra quickly said.  "I was the one working undercover in Dower's organization.  I know him better than anyone."

Travis nodded his approval and Standish left the room to set up the meeting.

          A technician came in a few seconds later, glancing nervously at the crowd in the room.  "Uh, I need to draw some blood, can you gentlemen please wait in the hallway?"

          Dr. Sahir opened the door just in time to hear the technician's request.  "Dr. Levine needs a new sample," she explained, holding the door open so the team and Travis could exit.

"I don't feel so bad," Chris said, his comment directed at the doctor.  "Can I get the hell out of—?"

"No," Vivika interrupted him.  She waited until Vin, the last one out, had left, then closed the door and walked over to the bed to speak to Chris while the tech drew the blood sample.  "I'm not surprised you're starting to feel a little better," she told the blond.  "Your system has recovered from the initial shock, so, for now, I would expect you to feel better.  Unfortunately, Dr. Levine has isolated at least a dozen toxic elements on that dart we pulled out of your neck.  You need to stay here."

"If you've identified the toxins, you can make an antidote, right?" Chris asked her.

          Vivika frowned.  "Let me have Michael come in and talk to you.  He'll be able to give you more details than I can on the poison.  But, until he gets here, I want you to just rest, all right?"

          Chris sighed, but he nodded, knowing that she was just trying to help him as best she could.  "Yeah," he agreed.  Besides, although he might not admit it to anyone else, he felt like shit.  The odds of his actually being able to get on his feet and walk out of there were slim to none.  But maybe, if he rested a little while, he might be able to change those odds.

Glancing at the watch, still counting down, he sincerely hoped it was so.

          Vivika picked up the phone on the small bedside table and punched in an extension.  A moment later she said, "Michael, it's Vivi, Mr. Larabee is awake and says he's feeling better.  He'd like to leave.  I was hoping you might be able to come by and explain to him why that would be a bad idea…  All right, thanks."  She hung up the receiver, then said to Chris, "He'll be right down."

          The technician finished and slipped from the room.

          "Thanks," Chris told the physician.  "I do appreciate what you're doing for me."

          She nodded and left.

Dr. Levine swept into the room a few minutes later, a laptop in his hands.  "Here, let me show you what we've found in your last blood sample," he said, coming over and opening the computer on the rolling tray near Chris' bed.  "Not the one they just took, of course, but here…"  When he had up what he wanted Larabee to see, he swung the small table around so Chris could see the screen.

          Chris peered at the information, none of which made any sense to him.

          Dr. Levine stepped around so he was able to point to various things on the screen as he said, "What we're looking at here is a compound poison.  The toxins are being carried through your bloodstream by a microcapsule, which is dissolving at timed intervals to deliver a steady dose of the poison.  But," Michael added, pressing the enter key to bring up a second screen, "and here's where we know somebody really good has to be involved…  The microcapsule is rearranging itself after each release, so the compound is essentially mutating on a regular cycle."

"Which means nothing to me, Doc," Chris said, knowing he wasn't going to like the explanation.

"To put it simply, we can't keep up with the damn thing.  We can't synthesize an antidote fast enough – before it rearranges itself the next time."

"Are you saying it's impossible to come up with an antidote?" Chris challenged.

"No," Dr. Levine replied, "we can come up with one, eventually, but there's only one chemist in the world who can come up with it quickly enough to save your life, and that's the man or woman who made the poison to begin with."

Chris closed his eyes.  That was about what he'd expected to hear, but it didn't make actually hearing the words any easier.

"I'd like to keep you here, under observation," Levine added.

"No," Chris replied.  "If I'm going to die, I'm sure as hell _not_ going out lying on my back in a hospital bed."

          "But—"

          "Look," Chris said, cutting the man off, "you said yourself there's only one person who can help me.  Let me do what I do best – what my team does best.  My team _will_ find this chemist."

          Levine hesitated for a moment, but he could see in Larabee's eyes that the blond wasn't going to be cooperative, and he couldn't really blame the man.  "All right, but there are certain signs you'll need to watch for, and, when they show up, you have to get back here, pronto, understand?"

          "Tell Nathan," Chris replied, already thinking about how to begin the search for the chemist the man who was trying to kill him had hired.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**United States Penitentiary Administrative Maximum Facility**

**Florence, Colorado**

 

Ezra was cleared into the federal prison and escorted to a private interview room.  A few minutes later, Samson Dower was brought in, his shackles secured to the chair the guard pressed him into.  There was a thick pane of bulletproof glass separating the two men.

"So, Sam, how are things going for you?" Ezra asked, slipping into the speech patterns and persona of Vic Styles, his undercover alter ego.

"I bear my burdens for the good of my people," Dower replied, a slight smirk on his face.

"White people, you mean."

"Naturally," Dower replied with a slight tilt of the head.

"How's it been for you here, cut off from your friends… your family," Ezra stated rather than asked.

"Can't deny that it's been hard… Vic," Dower returned.

"Is there someone special in your life?" Ezra asked casually.

"Don't we all have a special woman in our lives?  'Less, of course, you're a perverted queer."

"Who is she?" Ezra asked, trying to look bored, but it wasn't as easy to pull off as it was usually.

Dower smiled.  "Now, Vic, that wouldn't be fair to her, would it?"

"Why not?" Ezra replied.  "Surely she believes the same things you do.  I'd think she'd want the whole world to know that she was standing by you."

"She's a warrior," Dower said proudly.  "She doesn't need glory."

"A terrorist, you mean?" Ezra asked almost sweetly.

Dower snorted and grinned menacingly.  "Ah, Vic, you gotta know by now that my people can reach out and touch you – _any_ of you – anytime we want."

"Here?" Ezra asked, gesturing and glancing around, a slight smirk on his face.

"Anywhere…  I've got believers in the universities, cooking your hamburgers, even in your hospitals…  Each and every one of them is ready to strike without fear.  We're resolved to win this fight, Vic, whatever the price."

"And the down payment is Chris Larabee's life?"

Dower shrugged.  "There's some collateral damage in every war, my friend, but, in the end, the White race will triumph, you mark my words."

"And if we don't care to pay that price?"

Dower shrugged again.  "Well, then, I'd recommend you listen to the will of the people, follow their lead."

"That's not going to happen," Ezra told him bluntly.  "You have to know that."

"You don't follow the will of the people, the people rise up and smite you – best you remember that… Vic."

"Yes, well, sometimes right triumphs over might… over ignorant fears."

Dower shrugged one last time, still smirking.  "Well, then, I guess the chitchat's over, isn't it?  Say hello to your boss man… or should I say… say good-bye."

"I'd say you'd better grow eyes in the back of your head, Sam," Ezra told him, his tone as cold as a shard of ice.  "Anything happens to Larabee, there won't be a prison cell in this country where you'll be safe."

          "Better to die for a cause you believe in than live in a land of mongrels and fags."

          Ezra stood and walked out.  He wasn't going to get anything from Dower, and he'd heard more than enough already.  Dower was doing nothing more than gloating.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Byron Rogers Federal Building**

**Denver, Colorado**

 

In his office, Chris sat, scanning the surveillance pictures from the federal courthouse, looking for the woman who had shot him.

"Anyone ring a bell?" Buck asked, walking in and hitching his hip on the corner of Larabee's desk.

"Not yet," Chris replied.  "I wish everything wasn't so damn fuzzy…"  He trailed off, looking more closely at one of the pictures.  "Here, she might be a candidate.  She's wearing sunglasses…  Here, try this one, too."

Buck nodded.  "Okay, I'll see what we can find."

"Crosscheck the photos with passports…  She probably entered the country shortly after Andy Grant was arrested."

"What makes you think she's from out of the country?  She could've been a local girl, someone sympathetic to his cause," Buck reasoned.

Chris shook his head.  "I don't know…  We've never turned up any leads on family, or a close female friend for Dower.  So maybe he's been keeping his family, or his wife, girlfriend, whatever, out of the country.  Besides, that voice on the recorder, she had an accent of some kind."

"Ezra and Josiah both agreed it might be western European – maybe German, Austrian."

"Then start there."

"He's forcin' us to dance to his tune," Buck grumbled.

"So let's stop playin' his game," Vin said from the doorway.  "Let's hit him where he lives, make 'im play _our_ game."

Chris found another picture and held it up for Buck to see.  It was of the woman who had reminded him of Sarah.  "You recognize her?"

"No," Buck replied.

"Am I talkin' t' myself here?" Vin snapped.

"I heard you," Chris said, "but what you're thinking isn't possible."

"Says who?" Vin demanded.  "I c'n convince Travis t' go along, y' know I can."

Chris' head came up again and his eyes narrowed.  "Look, I might not be team leader much longer, but while I am, we're doing this _my_ way."

"Fine," Vin snarled, then spun on his heel and stormed away.

"He's got a point, you know," Buck said quietly.

Chris shot his longtime friend a warning glare.  "We're _not_ using Grant as bait.  He's how we punch Dower's ticket – for life."

Buck held up his hands, his palms facing Larabee to show he wasn't going to fight with him.  "All right," he said, "but, if you ask me, it sounds a lot like you're givin' up without much of a fight here, stud.  That really what you want to do?"

Chris sighed, his gaze falling to the photos on his desk.  Not so very long ago, he couldn't have denied it, but was that really what he was doing now?  Before the team, before Vin, he'd been so tired…  Tired of aching inside, tired of missing Sarah and his son, tired of going on when all he really wanted to be was with Sarah and Adam…  He hadn't expected the team, Vin, to change that, but now…

Now he had an excuse to join his wife and son, and… what?

He wasn't as ready as he'd been once, but how could he tell Buck that?

He had an opportunity to just let go, to move on to whatever came next.  And he hoped, prayed, that that would some kind of reunion with Sarah and Adam, but his memory of Vin's expression in the hospital kept him moving the images around on his desk, trying to find the woman who had shot him.

He was scared, he knew that much.  Scared that he might die, scared that he might end up in hell, separated from Sarah and Adam forever, an eternal extension of the reality he'd lived for two years…  And afraid he might not die.  Afraid that he might actually have feelings for a man, for Vin…

But if there was a _chance_ he might see Sarah and Adam again?  Shouldn't he take it?  He wanted to be reunited with them, to live out an eternity with them…  That had to be what he still wanted, wasn't it?

It was.  At least, he thought it was.  It had to be.

But there was still that damn shadow of doubt now…

"I'm going to go see how Vin's doing," Buck said softly, pushing off the edge of the desk.

Chris looked up with a start, having forgotten the man was even there.  He nodded.

Buck paused.  "Ya should cut Junior some slack, Chris.  He cares about you.  He's just trying to do the best he can…"

"I know," Larabee replied, wondering if Buck knew just how _much_ Vin apparently cared about him.

"We all do," Buck added.  "We all are."

Chris nodded, unable to look up and meet his friend's eyes.

"Least you can do is try as hard as we are."  And with that, the ladies' man stalked out of the office.

In a way, it was a relief that Buck thought he was still seeking after his reunion with Sarah.  It meant he hadn't seen his budding interest in Vin…  At least, he hoped it did.

He sat back, his head beginning to pound.  When the hell had everything gotten so damn complicated?

He snorted.  Guess dying did that to a man's mind…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**University of Colorado**

**Boulder, Colorado**

 

The young woman pushed open the door to the lab and walked in.  She glanced around, noting that the room was empty except for the older man, who was working under a fume hood in one corner of the room.

She walked over to him, sliding her hands over the tops of his shoulders and then leaning over to lightly kiss the back of his neck.

"Is the antidote ready?" she purred, then nibbled his wrinkled skin.

"Of course," he replied, feeling himself begin to respond to her kisses, "just like I told you.  I finished it an hour ago."

"Where is it?" she asked, biting him, but not hard enough to cause pain.

He moaned softly and closed his eyes.  "In the blue fridge…"

She stepped away, walking over to open the door and check inside.  There was a test tube rack inside, and in it a single test tube.  The liquid it held was pale blue.  She took it out and held it up to the light.  "This is it?"

"It is," he replied, turning his attention back to the experiment that was running.  He heard her walking back to him, then felt her press her breasts against his back as her hands slid over his shoulders, her fingernails teasing at his tiny nipples through the cloth of his shirt.

"You make all this craziness worthwhile," he said on a sigh.

She stepped back and took hold of his shoulder, turning him toward her.  He looked up at her in breathless anticipation.  She's hadn't been this demanding since the first time…

She stepped in between his opened knees and bent to kiss him.  He reached up, sliding his hands under her shirt, reaching up to cup her bra-covered breasts in his hands, then reaching behind to unfasten the hooks.  But this time, she pulled back.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Byron Rogers Federal Building**

**Denver, Colorado**

 

In his office, Chris leaned back in his chair and ran a trembling hand over his face.  He was sweating buckets, and he felt terrible, but he just didn't have the energy to call for someone.

He'd just gotten off the phone with his lawyer.  He'd already changed his will, months ago, making Vin the owner of the ranch if anything should happen to him, but he'd wanted to make sure everything was in order, just in case, and it was.

But it also made him feel… unfaithful.

Shouldn't he just let the ranch go to the Nature Conservancy, like he and Sarah had planned – if Adam hadn't lived to inherit it?  But he… just couldn't.  He knew how much Vin loved the ranch.  He wanted the man to have it.

A sharp pain in his head forced a gasp.

There was, he knew, a part of himself that welcomed pain – that part, he also knew, that blamed himself for Sarah's and Adam's deaths.  Pain seemed to be a fitting punishment for not being there when she'd gone off the road that evening…

His stomach cramped and he pushed back from the desk, his arms coming up to press against his midsection.  Before he even realized it, he had fallen out of his chair.  He looked up, catching sight of someone standing over him.

It couldn't be…

 _Now, you listen to me, Chris Larabee_ , Sarah said, her hands coming up to rest on her hips.

He knew that stance, _and_ that look.  She was pissed.

 _You might have made up your mind to lie down and die, but it's_ wrong _, Chris, wrong,_ she told him _.  You're not ready.  It's_ not _your time_.  _And that would be totally unfair to him, and you know it._

          Chris looked away, ashamed.  How could she know about his feelings for Vin?

 _No, don't you look away from me.  You know exactly who I am, and who I'm talking about.  I'm no hallucination_.

"No," he breathed.  "Not real…"

 _What, you think I'm some sort of chemical manifestation?_ she snapped at him, her green eyes flashing dangerously.  He'd always loved the way her eyes flashed when she got mad…

 _Well, I'm not_ , she argued.  _I'm real_ , a _nd I'm trying to save your stubborn hide._

"Where have you been, sweet woman?" he asked, staring up at her, lost in her beauty, lost in the way her hair fell in loose waves around her face…  "I need you, Sarah."

 _I know, baby, I know_ , she said, her voice soft now, loving.  _But this is_ wrong _, Chris.  You have so much more ahead of you, but you have to live_.

          "I don't want to," he groaned, willing it to be true, the tears springing into his eyes.  "Hurts…  God, Sarah, it hurts so damn much without you."

          Her expression was… troubled.  _I know it did, and it still does, but it's getting easier.  One day we'll be together again, I promise you, but now isn't that time.  If you give up now…_   _You have to fight this, Chris.  Do you hear me?  If you love me, you have to fight.  You have to_ live.  _I want you to live and love and have a wonderful life._

          "Can't," he groaned, the cramps coming again, then fading.

          _Chris, you know you have the chance to love again.  Keep fighting… for me, and for him._

          "Chris?"

          He heard the new voice and looked up, watching as Sarah faded into nothingness.  "No!" he cried, reaching out for her, but it was too late.

          "Chris?"  JD stepped around the side of the desk to find his boss lying curled up on the floor, tears streaming from his eyes.  "Oh, my God…  Nathan!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

**University of Colorado**

**Boulder, Colorado**

 

Josiah and Vin made their way across the university campus.  Buck was sure he had tracked down the right girl from the pictures Chris had pulled out, and she was in the States on a student visa.  The two agents were at the university to see if they could find her.

They entered the building that housed the biochemistry and chemistry departments.  And, after asking a student for directions, they found the main office and made their way to a reception desk.

"Hi, can I help you?" a young woman asked with a smile.

"We're tryin' t' find this girl," Vin said, nodding at the piece of paper Josiah was unfolding.

The profiler handed the page to the girl.

"Oh, sure, I know her.  Her name's Trude Hall, she's an international student, from Germany.  I have a couple of classes with her," the girl replied.  She looked up at the two agents.  "And you are?"

Josiah removed his ID and let her look.  "We're federal agents.  We'd like to talk to Miss Hall."

          The girl swallowed hard.  "Um, I'm not sure where she is…"

          "Can you look up her schedule?" Josiah asked.

          "You'd have to get that from the registrar's office, but I can check and see which lab she's working in," the girl replied, stepping over to a computer and logging in.  A few seconds later she said, "Here it is.  She works in Dr. Ladner's lab.  He's on the chemistry faculty."

          "Dr. Stanley Ladner?" Josiah asked, frowning.

"Yeah," the girl replied.  "Trude's his graduate lab assistant."  She reached over and grabbed a sheet of paper that turned out to be a map of the building.  "Dr. Ladner's lab is… right here," she said, marking the page with a yellow highlighter.  "The elevators are just down the hall."

"We appreciate all your help," Josiah said, flashing her a friendly smile.

"Sure," she replied, obviously curious, but too afraid to ask.

The two agents left the office, Vin stopping when they were back out in the hallway.  "You know this Latner guy?"

"Lad-ner.  And, no, I don't know him, but I have heard about him.  He was up for a Nobel Prize in chemistry a few years ago.  We've got the right girl."

Vin nodded and they started for the elevators, but, when they reached the stairs, first they took those up to the third floor, then walked down to the room the girl had marked.

Josiah pushed the door open.  The room inside was dark and he felt along the wall until he found a light switch and flipped it on.

          They moved into the lab, Josiah looking through some papers he found on a desk, Vin checking the space.

"Tell me somethin' about this guy," the sniper said as he worked.

"Well, he was an antiwar activist and a hippy back in the late sixties, radical professor in the seventies, and an award-winning chemist in the eighties."

"Could they make whatever they used on Chris in here?" Vin asked, making his way over to the back wall, where there were several refrigerators and freezers.

"Absolutely," Josiah replied.

When Vin opened the first of the refrigerators, he stopped.  "Uh, J'siah… think I found our Mr. Einstein."

"What?" Josiah said, starting over to join Vin.

"Can't think 'a why else there'd be a dead guy in the freezer, can you?"

          Josiah stopped beside Vin, staring at the older man who had been crammed into the appliance.  "That's Ladner," the profiler confirmed.  The man's eyes were still open, a look of surprise on his face, but the hole in his forehead told the agents that Ladner wouldn't be helping them, or anyone else.

          "Damn," Vin breathed.  "She's one step ahead 'a us."

          "Not for long," Josiah replied, his tone determined.  "Let's get the local police in here and then go talk to campus security and the registrar.  Maybe we can find her."

          Vin nodded, but he had his doubts.  She was one step ahead and she was going to stay that way.  She was going to take Chris away from him, before he'd even had a chance to win the man over.  It wasn't fair.

          He'd never met anyone who had aroused in him the kind of love he felt for Larabee.  Some time ago, he'd assumed that he'd never fall in love.  And that suited him just fine.  It was a complication he didn't need, especially since he'd suspected for a long time now that, if he ever did fall in love, it would probably be with a man.  Definitely a complication he didn't need.

          Too bad his heart hadn't agreed.

          And too bad the man he'd fallen in love with was a grieving widower who loved his memories more than he would ever love Vin.

          Too damn bad, too, that same man was dying by inches, too damn stubborn to let him do what needed to be done…  But then, if he saved Larabee's life, he'd be keeping the man from his longed-for reunion with his wife and son…

          But Vin wasn't sure he could let the man slip away that easily.  He just couldn't.  One way or another, he was going to save Larabee's life, and if the man hated him, well, so be it.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Three hours later, Josiah and Vin were back in Denver, at Summit Hospital and Trauma Center.

"Our people are analyzing the formulas from the papers you found in Dr. Ladner's lab.  Thank you," Dr. Levine told Josiah.

In bed, Chris groaned as he tried to sit up more.

Levine glanced over at the man, saying, "Take it easy, Chris."  He looked back at the other two agents, adding quietly, "It's only a matter of time…"

"That's what's got me worried," the blond replied dryly, having heard the man's comment.

"What about the girl?" the doctor asked, ignOrring Larabee's remark.  "Any chance you might find her?"

"When she surfaces, it'll be on her own terms," Vin replied.  He glanced over at Larabee.  "Chris…"

The blond shook his head.  "I know what you're going to say, Vin.  Forget it.  There's no way we're striking a deal with Dower."

"Damn it, Chris," Vin argued, "let me grab Grant back.  We'll trade him for the antidote, then snatch him back again.  You know we can do it."

"They'll kill him as soon as they lay their hands on him," Larabee countered.

"Trust me," Vin pleaded.  "I _won't_ let that happen."

"It's not a matter of trust," Larabee argued back.  "It's just too risky.  We stick to our present plan."

Vin huffed out a frustrated sigh.  "Fine," he grumbled, then his blue eyes flashed as he added, "But it sounds t' me like yer just lookin' fer an excuse t' die."  And with that, the sniper turned and stomped out of the room.

Chris hesitated a moment, then met Josiah's gaze.  "I don't want to die," he said.

"You sure about that, Chris?" was all the big man asked.

"Yes, damn it."

Josiah hesitated, knowing he couldn't say what he wanted to in front of Dr. Levine.  "Make sure that's the case," he said, before he followed after Vin.

"Look, you need to get some rest," Dr. Levine said, deciding it would be best to pretend he hadn't heard any of that.  "We're going to draw some more blood now, and in another hour.  Why don't you try and get some sleep?"

Chris nodded, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.

Dr. Levine left as well, and, as soon as Chris was alone, he looked up to find Sarah standing at the foot of his bed.  Or at least it was Sarah, _if_ she'd been a man…

"Who—?"

The man smiled.  _You recognize me, don't you?_

"Sarah?"

He laughed and shook his head.  _No, I'm not my sister._

"Sister?" he asked, and then he remembered.  Samuel Connelly.  Sarah's twin brother, but he'd died when he was in his late teens, before Chris had met Sarah.

Sam nodded.  _Yeah, that's who I am, but I didn't die.  I killed myself_.

"Why?" Chris asked, confused.  Why in the world was Sarah's brother here?

Sam smiled.  _You know my father…_

Chris nodded.  Hank Connelly hadn't liked Chris, not one little bit.  And he hadn't been a bit shy about letting Chris know it, either.

_Well, then, you can imagine what he thought, what he said, when he found out I was gay._

That surprised Larabee.  Sarah had talked about her brother, had loved him, deeply, but she'd never mentioned that he was gay.

 _She knew_ , Sam said.  _She was the only one I told for years…  She was the one who kept trying to help me find a boyfriend…_  His expression was half sad, half amused.

"Why are you here?" Chris asked, still confused.

_Oh, Chris…  I'm just here to tell you that loving another man isn't the end of the world._

"But I'm not gay."

Sam laughed.  _I never said you were.  The human heart is a lot bigger, a lot more complicated, than we give it credit for.  I just wanted to tell you that it's not impossible to fall in love with another man, if you're willing to love the person, not just the plumbing.  So why don't you let Vin do what he wants and then… give him a chance?_

"I can't.  I can't buy my life with someone else's."

 _Great, just great…_ Sam said, his features changing right in front of Larabee's eyes.  _You're still the boss, aren't you, still on the case_ , Sarah accused him.

"What do you want me to do, give up?" Chris asked.

 _No, but you could stop being so damn predictable!  Stop doing things by the book.  That's_ not _who you are, Chris.  It never was_.

"It is now," he countered.  And it was true.  Ever since she and Adam had died, he'd gone by the book…

 _Chris, there was_ nothing _you could've done to save me.  You didn't do anything wrong_.

The muscles in his jaw bunched.  "I should've been able to do _something_.  I should've been able to find out what happened!"

 _You know what your problem is?_ she asked him, but she didn't wait for an answer.   _You used to trust your gut.  But now?  Anything that makes you feel, anything that puts you out on a limb – bam! – you slam the door closed on it.  You can't live like that, Chris.  It's_ not _who you are.  Let Vin do what he wants, and let him love you._

"I can't," Chris growled, angry with his dead wife for the first time.  "I can't let him get a man killed, and I can't— I can't—  Look, why don't you go back to whatever netherworld you came from and let me get back to work…"

 _You can't get rid of me that easily, Chris Larabee_ , she told him, hands coming up onto her hips.  _You have to decide to live, Chris.  I can't do that for you.  Vin was right, though, you've given up.  You want to die.  But that's wrong, Chris.  It's so wrong._

"It is _not_ wrong," he argued.  "I'm tired, Sarah.  I'm so damn tired."

 _You need to open your heart_ , Sarah warned him.  _We're losing, Chris.  Please.  Do whatever it takes.  You have to live.  You have to want to live, to love again._

"No, I can't," he said, his voice as tired-sounding as he looked.  "It's not right.  I loved you!  I love you!"

_I know you did, and that you do, and that won't change, but it's time to live again, Chris.  You're not supposed to die now.  You have a new job, a new team.  It's what you've wanted ever since you got out of the SEALs.  You have a family.  They love you.  They care about you.  What do you think this is going to do to them?_

"They'll be fine," Chris said, unable to meet her eyes.

_No, they won't.  They need you to lead them.  They need you to be there for them._

"I am," Chris argued.  "But I can't be here forever.  They'll get by…"

Are _you there for them?_ Sarah challenged.  _You put this team together five months ago.  How many times have you had them out to the ranch?_

"Jesus, Sarah, we're together eight to twelve hours a day," Chris argued.  "The last thing they want to do is spend _more_ time together."

_Which is why they're all getting together at Josiah's house, renovating his garage into a space they can all use, right?_

"They are?"

_Or why they all meet at the recreation center, or the mission in Purgatory, to help Vin out with the local kids._

"I didn't—"

_You've never asked them, Chris!  You call the team your family, but you don't even know what they're doing._

"I don't want them thinking I'm trying to run their lives."

 _No, don't you lie to me, Chris Larabee.  You're afraid to get close to them, especially to Vin_ , she told him.  _You're afraid of getting hurt again._

"No, I—"

_Trade Andy Grant for the antidote, Chris._

"I can't."

_Won't, you mean._

"Can't."

Sarah smiled sadly.  _Well, at least you're fighting with me._

Chris' cheeks colored.  "I don't want to fight with you…"

 _I want you to fight.  I want you to fight to live.  And I want you to let Vin love you._ And she was gone.

"Sarah?" he called, but there was nothing.  The door creaked and a technician came in to draw his blood.

 _Damn it_ , he cursed silently, wishing he could order the technician out, but he knew he couldn't.  She _wanted_ him to love Vin?  How could she do that?

 _How can I not_ , he heard her whisper.  _I want you to be happy, and I know he can make you happy._

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The technician had just left when the rest of Team Seven pushed into Chris' hospital room.  Vin was holding Larabee's cell phone, which was ringing.  He handed it to the blond.

"Larabee," Chris said as he took it.

"I hope you're taping this, because I will _not_ repeat it.  These are your directions to the exchange location.  Bring Andy Grant at nine-thirty in the morning.  If I see the police, or if you try anything, you will never get the antidote," the woman said.

"We don't have him," Chris told her.

"That is _your_ problem.  Deliver him, or this will be your last night.  Now," she said, "give me to one of your men.  I want to pass the coordinates to someone whose mind is still functioning properly."

Chris handed the phone to Vin, who took it, listening for a few moments before he closed the cell phone and stuck it back in his pocket.

"You get the location?" Larabee asked.

"I got it," Vin said.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

**Byron Rogers Federal Building**

**Denver, Colorado**

 

In his office at the federal building, AD Orrin Travis sat with the federal prosecutor, arguing.

"Nothing is out of the question," Travis snapped.  "I'm trying to save Larabee's life."

"I respect what you're trying to do," Nathaniel Trager replied, "but I have a responsibility, too.  Hundreds of families have suffered at Dower's hands.  Andy Grant is all that stands between him and the street."

"And who gave you Andy Grant?" Travis nearly roared.

"Team Seven, I know, Orrin, I know, as well as you, but I can't let him go."

"Then expect a call from the national security advisor," Travis snapped.

Trager sighed.  "Look, Orrin, we go back a long time.  What's so damn special about this agent?"

Travis thought for a moment, then snorted softly and met his old friend's gaze.  "He reminds me of us… at that age."

Trager snorted as well.  "All right, I'll talk to my superiors."

"Damn right, you will," Travis said.  "They can pull this off."

A sharp rap on the door ended the conversation.  A moment later, Travis' assistant leaned in, saying, "Sir, it's Mr. Larabee."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Summit Hospital and Trauma Center**

 

At the hospital, Team Seven and AD Travis waited anxiously in a small conference room.  After nearly twenty minutes, Dr. Levine hurried in, looking frustrated.

"What's happening?" Nathan asked.

Levine leaned back against the table and said, "The toxin buildup is affecting his autonomic nervous system – breathing, eyesight, swallowing; all the functions we don't usually think about.  They're starting to shut down."

"Then why don't you do something about it?" Buck snapped.

"There's nothing we _can_ do until that antidote gets here," Levine replied.

"Six hours left…" JD added quietly.

"Y'all stick with Chris.  I'll call y' later," Vin said, stalking out before anyone could stop him.

Travis watched the younger man go, then looked to the others.  "Where are we?" he asked.

Josiah took the lead, filling the AD in on what they had, or rather, didn't have.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Chris woke slowly, his dreams lingering…  Then he gasped.  Sarah was sitting at the foot of his bed, crying.

"Sarah," he called, his voice weaker than he expected.

She looked up and met his eyes.  It was so damn real, he shivered.  As she pushed off the bed, he actually felt it shift.  But that was impossible, wasn't it?

 _I'm real, Chris.  And I—_   She stopped, reaching up to hug her upper arms.

"What?" he said, trying to pull himself up in the bed.

She turned back to look at him, angry now.  _Do you honestly think dying is going to fix everything?_

"Won't it?" he asked her.  "I'll be with you, and Adam.  That's where I belong… isn't it?"

_We're dead, Chris, and whether or not you're here with us, it's never going to be like it was before.  We're not going to go for walks in the mountains.  We aren't going to see our son grow up, get married, and have his own children._

"But—"

_I love you, Chris Larabee, but you're the most stubborn man I've ever known.  And because I love you, I'm going to be here, waiting for you, when it's your time.  But this isn't it.  You have so much to do, so many people who need your help._

"I need _you_ ," Chris argued.

_You have me, Chris, then, now, forever, but that doesn't mean you get to give up!  When the time comes, I'll be here, I promise, but, please, for me, you have to fight this.  Let them do whatever they have to, in order to save your life._

He shook his head, saying, "I can't."

 _You mean you won't_ , she corrected.  _When did you get to be so by-the-book?  That's not who you are.  It's not the man I fell in love with…_

He felt his eyes fill with tears.  "It's…  It's been hard, Sarah, so damn hard.  The book's all I have left."

 _That's not true_ , she replied, going back to the bed and sitting down on the edge next to him.  _You have your team, Chris.  And you have a chance to love again, if you can just toss that book out and… be the man I fell in love with_.  She reached out, cupping his cheek, and he could feel her – feel the dip in the mattress, feel the cold where her fingers were.

 _I've been right here with you, baby_ , she told him.  _And I'll still be here when you win this.  I miss you, too, but I love you.  I want you to live.  I want to see you smiling and laughing and kicking bad-guy butt.  I want to see you in love… happy… being that wild and crazy man I know…_

That forced a snort of laughter from him, and sent the tears rolling down his cheeks.  "I can't.  I don't— I don't know how, Sarah…"

 _It'll get easier, Chris_ , she promised him.  _I know it's hard to believe, but it's true.  You have a family now, Chris, you have to believe that.  They need you.  They'll make it better._   She smiled.  _Vin's going to make it better – he already has, hasn't he?_

Chris had to nod.  It was true.  Ever since he'd met the man, the pain had eased.  He wasn't sure how or why, but it was true.  Having Vin, having the team, had filled some of the emptiness inside him…  Vin had filled it, but he couldn't fall in love with another man…

 _Trust me, Chris_ , she pleaded.  _Fight this.  Live… and it'll get better._

"I'll try," he croaked, his voice rough and broken.

_That's all we can do, you know…  Just remember, Vin's just trying to do the best he can, too.  If you let him, he'll love you, just as much as I do…_

Chris shook his head.

_Chris, please, don't be afraid to love Vin.  Love is the most beautiful thing any of us ever get to experience.  You're blessed, sweet man.  You have a chance to love and be loved twice.  Take it.  And remember, Vin might not get another chance…_

The door whisked open, and Sarah vanished.

"No!" Chris cried, reaching out to try and grab her, but it was already too late.

Ezra stepped in.  "Chris, are you all right?" he asked.  "I thought I heard you talking to someone…"  He trailed off, noting the tears.  "I apologize.  Do you need a doctor?"

Chris shook his head, then reached up and brushed the tears from his face.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

This time Larabee nodded.  "My imagination seems to be working overtime…"

Ezra walked over to stand at the foot of the bed.  "Bad dreams?"

"No, not exactly," Chris replied.  "Just… scared," he admitted.  "I used to think my death would come from a bullet, or a bomb, or some freak accident…  I never thought I'd be waiting for it like this."

"No, of course you didn't," the undercover man said, unsure how to respond to the unexpected vulnerability.  "None of us would know what to do in your unfortunate situation."

Chris lifted his arm to check the watch, but it was gone.

"Mr. Tanner took it," Ezra informed him, looking a little self-conscious.

Chris frowned.  Did the entire team know Vin was in love with him?  "Where is he?" he asked, but he already knew.  "He's trying to get Andy Grant to come to the park, isn't he?"

Seeing no reason to lie, Ezra replied, "Yes."

"Get me Travis on the phone," Larabee ordered.

"Mr. Larabee—"

"Get me Travis on the phone," Chris snapped.

"Mister— Chris, please, he—"

The glare Chris leveled on the man was enough to silence him.  Ezra nodded, but he added quietly, "But I hope you know what you're throwing away."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Denver, Colorado**

 

Vin waited until the US Marshal who was in charge of Andy Grant's protection detail pulled up and parked in his driveway.  Then the sniper stepped out of the shadows that ran along the side of the agent's house, grabbing the man and pulling him back into those same shadows.

"Don't make me do somethin' we'll both regret," he hissed into the man's ear.

"Travis send you?" the marshal asked, having just gotten off the phone with the man a few minutes earlier.

"No, this is personal," Vin replied.  He checked the watch Chris had received.  "Four hours, that's all Larabee's got left.  Let's go," he said, starting for the man's parked vehicle.

"You're crazy," the marshal growled.  "There are procedures—"

"Chris doesn't have time for that crap," Vin replied.  "Now, get in.  Hands on the wheel; yer drivin'."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Less than twenty minutes later, Vin was backing out of the safe house, dragging Andy Grant along with him, his arm wrapped around the man's neck, his Glock trained on the marshal who had brought him there.

"Now, you boys just behave," he cautioned the two other lawmen who had been guarding Grant, praying that he wouldn't be forced to shoot one of them.

"What are you doing?" Andy squeaked.

"You 'n' me are goin' for a ride," Vin informed him.

Andy's eyes were wide and wild as he addressed the marshals.  "You're not gonna let him take me, right?" he demanded.  When it was clear the marshals were not going to stop Tanner, he added, "You're supposed to be protecting me!"

"You'll be fine," Vin told him, "as long as y' do exactly what I tell ya."

"Do something!" Grant cried as Vin dragged him to a car.

"Shut up and get in," Tanner snarled.  "Yer drivin'."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Summit Hospital and Trauma Center**

 

Lying in his hospital room, Chris listened to the news reporter as she confirmed his worst fears.  "…Justice Department officials have confirmed that an important witness in the Samson Dower trial was kidnapped earlier this morning from a safe house.  Officials are not commenting on who might have been responsible, although an unnamed source said that the witness was taken away by a single man.  Now, back to Ed for the weather…"

          Somehow, he knew Sarah was there with him, watching the report.  "It was Vin, wasn't it," he said rather than asked.

          _Yes._

          "He's going to get Grant killed."

          _You don't know that, Chris._

          "He can already kiss his career good-bye."

          _Chris, he did it for you, because he loves you._

          Chris looked up, meeting her eyes.  "I'm trying, I really am, but this is wrong.  Grant is going to die for me, and—"

          _Trust Vin.  Trust all of them._

          "I won't trade Grant's life for mine.  If that's what happens, how am I supposed to forgive Vin for that?"

          _Trust him, Chris_ , she told him again.  _Please.  Trust him, and hang on.  Just hang on a little longer.  He doesn't want Andy Grant to die, either, but he's not going to just stand by and let you die.  If it were me, I'd do the same thing._

          Chris felt a wave of fiery pain sweep through his body and his back arched against it.  He moaned lowly.  It felt like claws had been sunk into his belly.  "Hurts," he gasped, alarms beginning to go off.

          _I know, baby, I know_ , Sarah said, trying to reach out and help him.

          Chris' body began to shake.  "Sarah," he called, more afraid at that moment than he ever had been.

          _I love you_ , she said.  _Hang on, Chris, please… for me…_

          From the corner of his eye, he saw the door swing open.  Dr. Levine rushed in, Nathan and Buck behind him.

          "Chris," the doctor called, checking monitors.  "Can you hear me?"

          Larabee nodded.  He looked up at Buck and managed to choke out, "Vin."

          "He's got Andy Grant," the ladies' man replied.

"Come on," Nathan said, helping Chris to sit up.  "We have to get to the park.  We only have an hour left."

"What are we… waiting for?" Chris whispered, his eyes on Sarah as she faded away.

A moment later, an orderly was there with a wheelchair.  Nathan and Buck moved Chris into it, Nathan pushing him from the room, Buck and the doctor following.

"There's an ambulance waiting for us outside," Levine told the agents.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Trude Hall slid out of her car and stood, looking down at the vial containing the antidote.  She thought briefly of just tossing it into the bushes, but her father had trained her well.  She couldn't give up something that might end up being of value.

Leaning into the car, she lifted the lid on the small compartment between the driver's and the passenger's seats.  She dropped the bottle in and closed the lid.  She had just closed the car door when she saw the ambulance pulling into the parking lot.  It pulled up and parked in front of the woman's car.

Buck climbed out of the passenger's seat and stood, looking at her.

"Where's Andy Grant?" she demanded, glad that the car was between her and the man.  He looked angry.

"He'll be here," the ladies' man replied.  "Give me the antidote."

"Not until I have Andy Grant," she replied defiantly.  She opened the phone she was holding and pressed in a speed-dial number.  A few moments later, a van pulled into the parking lot, the side door sliding open as it eased up close to the ambulance.

"This what y' want?" came Vin's voice.  He stepped out of the trees that lined the park's parking lot, too close to her for her comfort.

Trude's gaze swept over Vin and Grant.  She gestured with a jerk of her head as she drew a gun from a small holster on her belt.  "Put him in the van."

"Give us the antidote," Vin growled at her, moving closer to her, forcing her to move closer to the van, and to Buck.

"You'll get it _after_ we're gone," she replied in kind.

          "After you kill Grant, you mean," Buck tossed out.

"What happens to him is none of your concern, but what happens to Mr. Larabee matters a great deal, doesn't it, Mr. Tanner?" she asked, a gloating smile on her face.

In the next instant, both Trude and Vin had their guns up and pointed at each other.  But Vin ignored the threat, manhandling Andy Grant past her, toward the van.

"You acted true to form, Mr. Tanner," she said, smiling now that it appeared things were going her way.  She stepped back, letting Vin pass with Grant.

"Y' know a lot about me," Vin said.

"We do.  We counted on the fact that you would go to any length to help a friend – no matter how extreme, or crazy.  If not for you, none of this would have been possible.  _You_ made it all possible."

Vin continued to push Grant closer to the van, Trude moving to trail him so she could follow Grant into the van and escape.

Then, suddenly, as they reached the space between the van and the ambulance, Vin shoved Grant, barking, "Run!"

Grant bolted forward, along the side of the ambulance.  Nathan grabbed him when he reached the end, hauling him into the vehicle where he would be safe.  At the same time, Vin spun, grabbing Trude's wrist, forcing her gun up and away, then shoving her down onto the hood of her car, handcuffing her to himself before she had a chance to respond.  The van immediately jerked into motion, tires squealing as it roared back away from the ambulance.

"Y' want t' see crazy, lady?  I'll show y' crazy," Vin snarled, blue eyes flashing with a kind of desperate madness that actually frightened her.

He jerked her up and shoved her away from him, then opened the leather jacket he was wearing.  Her eyes flew open wide when she saw the grenades, wired and obviously set to explode when the watch counting down Larabee's life reached zero.

"You're bluffing," she gasped.

"Y' know a lot about me, don't ya?" Vin replied, a feral snarl curling his lips off his teeth.  "Y' know 'm not the kind 'a guy who bluffs.  Pick one, any of 'em," he growled at her.

She hesitated.

"Pick one!" he snapped, his eyes gone completely cold.

She jerked from the force of his words, but she pointed to one of the grenades.

Vin brushed her hand back and grabbed the grenade she had indicated.  He threw it into the trees.

Three seconds later, there was an explosion.

Trude squealed and jerked back, trying to get away.  All the men watching could see the terror on her face.

"Hey," Vin snapped at her, "not a lot 'a time left.  Where's the antidote."

"Let me go.  I'll give it to you."

"Don't work that way, lady – antidote first," Vin told her.

Her eyes were drawn to the timer.  "In the car!  In the middle!  The compartment!"

Buck darted over and leaned into the car.  A moment later, he pulled back and straightened.  "Got it!"

Vin reached down and jerked a wire free as the watch counted down from three to two seconds.

A moment later, Ezra and JD were there, removing the cuffs and taking Trude away.

"My father will beat you!" she screamed.  "Our people will prevail!"

A sedan pulled up, the marshal Vin had used to get Grant climbing out and taking back his prisoner from Nathan.

Vin ignored the dirty look the man shot his way as Tanner sprinted to the rear of the ambulance.  Inside, Dr. Levine was administering the antidote.  Chris' face was pasty gray, and he was wheezing.

"How long will it take t' work?" Vin asked, deathly afraid it was already too late.

"That's entirely dependent on Mr. Larabee and his metabolism," Levine replied.  "Right now, he's running the race of his life…"

The doctor sat back, monitOrring Chris' pulse.  Nathan slid out, giving Vin the room he needed to climb into the ambulance.

The sniper settled next to Larabee and reached out, grabbing the man's shoulder and leaning over him to whisper into Chris' ear.  "Chris…  Come on, pard…  Get it goin', Cowboy… get it goin'."

The doctor used his stethoscope to listen to Larabee's heart and lungs.

"Damn you, Larabee, y' better not die on me now," Vin growled.  "Cain't lose this, Cowboy.  Cain't lose m' family 'fore we even get started…  Fight, y' bastard…  Cain't lose you, neither…"

Chris drew a deeper, less labored breath and forced his eyes open.  Vin's forehead was pressed against the side of his skull, so he only had to turn his head slightly and whisper for Vin to hear him.

The sniper snorted and sat back, his eyes bright with unshed tears.  "Don't y' give up, Chris."

"Vin?" Buck called, afraid those tears were bad news.

Tanner turned to look down at the older man, a smile curling the corners of his mouth.  But before he said anything, though, he looked at the doctor.

Levine smiled and nodded.  He could hear the telltale sounds of the antidote working, Larabee's heart beginning to beat steadily, his breaths coming easier and easier.

"Vin?" Buck called again, a more desperate edge to his voice this time.

"He's gonna be all right," Tanner replied.  "Fuckin' bastard's too damn ornery t' die."

          Chris smiled, and, catching sight of movement, looked up to see Sarah smiling down at him.

          _You're going to make it, Chris._

          He nodded.

          _Remember, you have a family, Chris…  Now, open your heart and love again…  He loves you… isn't it obvious?_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

When Chris woke, he found himself back in the hospital.  And, before he could force his eyes open, he felt Sarah kiss his forehead.

 _Thank you_ , she said.

"For what?" he rasped, eyes still closed.

 _For living_.

He nodded, cracking his eyes open.  She was so damn beautiful…  "You're gonna go now, aren't you."  It wasn't a question, and his voice broke on the last word.

She nodded.  _I have to_.

          "But you'll be there… when I…?"

          _When it's your time, I'll be there, I promise.  Me_ and _Vin, you'll see._

          He nodded, a small smile on his face.

          _And, until then, you just remember, not everybody gets a second chance at the kind of love we shared, Chris.  It's a blessing, and you darn well better treat it like one.  Remember, I'll be watching you, and if I have to, I'll come back and kick your sorry but cute butt._

He chuckled softly at that.  "Cute, huh?"

 _Sorry, too_ , she reminded him.  _I love you, Chris Larabee.  I'll always love you, and I want you to be happy._

          "I love you, too," he managed.  "And Adam."

          _We know, sweet man, we know…  Love is the greatest gift we're ever given, Chris, please, don't waste this chance…_

          He watched her fade into nothingness, but it didn't hurt as much as he expected it to.  Still, he couldn't keep himself from reaching up and running his fingers through the air where she had just been.  It felt cold…

          "Chris, you need something?" Josiah asked, looking up from where he had dozed off.

          "No," Larabee replied thickly, "I'm… fine."

          The profiler stood and stretched, then walked over to the bed.  "You sure?  You want something to drink?"

          "Whiskey," the man replied.

          Josiah chuckled.  " _That_ you'll have to run by Dr. Levine or Vivi first."

          Chris grinned tiredly.  "What did they say?"

          It was Josiah's turn to grin.  "That it looks like you're going to be all right.  They have more tests they need to run, but—"

          "Damn, Josiah, they're gonna bleed me to death before I can get out of here," Larabee complained.

          "Beats the alternative, though, doesn't it?"

          Maybe it did, at that.  "Everybody okay?" Larabee asked, ignOrring the question.

          Josiah nodded.  "Everybody's fine."

          "Dower?"

          "Grant testified yesterday.  Dower was convicted."

          "What about Vin?" he asked, afraid that Travis might have already fired the agent for stealing Grant from protective custody.

          Josiah smiled.  "Other than worried sick about you, he's fine, too."

          That put a surprised frown on Larabee's face.  "But he took Grant."

          "That he did, but Travis had already talked the prosecutor into going along with the idea, so Trager agreed to look the other way on Vin jumping the gun a little."

          _Thank God_ , Chris thought, a wave of relief washing over him.  Still, he hadn't sorted out exactly how he felt about the sniper's actions, but at least Vin would be around when he did.  Now he just needed to decide what to do about Vin and their… relationship.

          The blond yawned and Josiah suggested, "Get some more sleep, Chris.  The doctors say it's the best medicine for you right now."

          Chris nodded, watching as the profiler left.

          _You know, it's not really as different as you might think…_

          Chris rolled his head to the left, finding Sam standing there.

          _Loving a man, I mean_ , the ghost continued. _It's not that different from loving a woman…_

          "Says you.  Did you try both?"

          Sam snorted.  _Oh, please, I was gay, not bi or bent or whatever you decide to call yourself.  Women were the absolute last thing on my mind_.  The man smiled, and Chris had to admit that he was handsome.

          Sam's eyebrows went up.  _Handsome, am I?  Well, it's nice to know I can still turn the head of a good-looking man…_

It was Chris' turn to snort.  "Don't make me laugh," he warned the specter.

Sam smiled affectionately at him and Chris felt a passing wave of regret that he'd never gotten to know the man.

 _I appreciate that_ , Sam told him.

"And stay the hell out of my head," Larabee grumbled.

 _Can't.  I don’t know how_ , Sam explained.  _Now, I know it might be hard, but you're going to give this thing with Vin a chance, right?_

          "Why do you care?" Chris asked, honestly curious.

          _Because I love Sarah, and she loves you,_ he said. _And because I loved a man once, an older man, someone a lot like you, actually…  He was so sure he was straight…  He pushed me away.  It hurt so bad to know that the man I loved couldn't love me in return, thought that I was disgusting…_

          "I'd never think that about Vin – ever."

          Sam nodded. _I know.  You're a good man, Chris Larabee.  It's too bad you aren't gay.  If you were, I might just stick around and haunt that sweet ass of yours._

          Chris blushed, but actually chuckled at that.  "Just what I need…"

          _What, two guys pining for your ass?_   Sam smiled down at him.

"You're as bad as she is," Chris grumbled.

_Well, we are twins._

          "You really think I can love a man?"

          _I don't know_ , Sam replied.  _Why don’t you ask yourself instead… do you think you can love Vin?_

          Chris didn't hesitate.  "I think I already do."

          _Then you're more than halfway there, brother – sex is just the icing on the cake._

          "I don't know," Chris said on a breath, his eyes falling closed.  "Different instruction manual."

          _Trust me, it's not that hard.  Well, some things are, of course…_

"Can't you see I'm trying to sleep here?"

 _Shhh,_ Sam said, _your friend was right.  You need to rest._

          "Pain in the ass…"

          _I'll leave that to Vin…_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ *

 

**Two days later**

 

"What's taking so long?" JD asked as he and the others waited in Chris' hospital room.

"Probably found some other test they ain't run on 'im yet 'n' decided t' try it out," Vin supplied.  He was leaning back against the window, watching the others putter around, getting Chris' stuff packed up and ready to go.

Travis pushed the door open and stepped in to join them.  He glanced around.  "He isn't back yet?" the AD asked, surprised.

"Nope," Buck replied.

"How was he feeling?" Travis queried.

"I'm feeling much better, sir, thank you," Chris answered for himself as he was pushed into the room in his wheelchair.

Travis smiled.  "Well, seems like this last test took you longer than it took Mr. Tanner to acquire Andy Grant."

"I enjoy a good challenge," Vin returned, looking a little sheepish.

"Yes, well, I think next time, we should go through _regular_ channels, with less at stake… like your life, or your career," Travis told the sniper.

"Didn't think we had that much time," Vin replied.  It was a conversation he had already had with Travis, but the AD was just making sure the rest of the team knew where he stood on the chain-of-command issue.

"Vin, just for my information," Josiah said, "those grenades, they weren't _all_ real, were they?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Chris added, looking up to meet the sniper's eyes.  The fact that Vin immediately looked away had him more than a little worried.

Vin's reply, however, was a silent, one-shoulder shrug.

Ezra laughed.  "Ah, Mr. Sanchez, you should know that a good poker player _never_ tells you if he was bluffing."

"Any news on the van?" Nathan asked Travis, who nodded.

"Local police found it abandoned in Wiggins.  It's being sent back here so the forensics lab can go over it, but it's doubtful they'll find much."

"Dower's people are well trained," Josiah agreed.

"Well, I don't know about you guys," Buck said, interrupting the conversation, "but I'm ready to get the hell out of here."

"I'll go tell them that you're ready," Nathan said, comment directed to Chris, who nodded his agreement.

"I'll go get the Ram," Buck offered.

Seeing the look that passed between Chris and Vin, JD added, "I'll, uh, go with Buck – make sure he doesn't get sidetracked at the nurses' station."

"And we'll walk the AD to the elevator," Josiah said, reaching out to clap Ezra on the shoulder.  The men departed, leaving Chris and Vin alone.

Larabee looked up at the sniper.  "Bluffing, huh?" he said, then added, "Why do I get the feeling I don't want to know the answer to Josiah's question…"

Vin smiled, the expression having more than just a hint of sadness to it.  "Well, Cowboy, I'll tell ya, y' don't want t' know…"

Larabee scowled, but his eyes danced with amusement.  "Thought I made it clear in the ambulance, Tanner…  Don't call me 'cowboy.'"

Vin's grin grew wider, and the sadness slipped away.  "Yep, heard y' the first time… Cowboy."  He pushed off the window sill and grabbed the handles of Larabee's wheelchair.  "C'mon, let's get the hell outta Dodge."

"Amen," Chris replied, grinning.  And he was sure Sarah and Sam were watching, smiling as well.  He'd let Vin's evasion slide for now, but he wasn't about to let it drop.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Chris was surprised when it turned out to be Buck who drove the Ram out to the ranch.  JD followed them, as did Josiah.

          A few minutes into the trip, Chris asked, "Why the parade?"

          "Well," Buck replied, "the doc thought you ought to have a b— uh, somebody—"

          "Babysitter," Larabee interrupted.  "I get the picture."

          "Vin's gonna go pick up some stuff, then meet us out at the ranch.  Josiah's stayin' with you 'til he gets there.  JD's going to drive me home.  I've got a date with Miranda tonight, and he's taking Casey to that wine and cheese thing at the zoo."

          "Wine and cheese…  JD?"

          Buck snorted and laughed.  "That little girl has JD twisted around her little finger."

          Chris smiled.  He imagined that there would be wedding bells in the near future for the pair, and, for the first time since he'd met JD, he felt glad about that.  Which reminded him…  "How's Raine doing?"

          "Oh, she's just fine.  Nathan's a nervous wreck when he's not worrying about you, but I suspect he'll get over it once she's born."

          "She?" Chris asked.

          "Yep, they're gonna have a little girl," Buck replied, his voice soft with wonder, and a touch of envy.

          Chris shook his head.  Sarah had been right – he hadn't been paying attention like he should have.  "Well, then, I think we ought to throw the man a party out at the ranch before he's too tired to appreciate it."

          Buck shot his friend a look, then smiled widely.  "Damn right, we'd better.  Think you and Vin can handle the food if the rest of us do the decorations and bring the drinks?"

          "Can probably do that," Chris replied.  He still tired too easily, and had occasional bouts of vertigo, but the doctor had assured him that he should be fine in a few weeks, if he rested.

          "'Course, Josiah makes a three-alarm chili that's to die for," Buck added.  "Maybe he can bring some of that."

          "Works for me," Chris replied.

          "You sure you're going to be up for this?" Buck asked.  "She's due at the end of next month, so we probably ought to do it right before you come back to work."

          "I'll be fine."

          That put a big smile back on Buck's face.  "Well, then, I guess we'll start plannin' for mission… Papa Nathan."

          Chris nodded, noticing that the usual pain wasn't there, just a warm nostalgia for how he'd felt as Sarah had approached the end of her pregnancy.  A pang of guilt coursed through him, but he couldn't hold on to it.

          "So, Vin and I will handle the grill," Chris said, "Josiah can bring his chili.  You and JD will pick up the drinks…  What about Ezra, does he have any special talents he can contribute to this shindig?"

          Buck thought for a moment, then grinned.  "Put him in charge of dessert.  Last time we threw a party for a few of the kids at the rec center, he brought enough sweets to turn everybody there into a diabetic.  Good stuff, too.  And the bastard wouldn't tell us here he'd gotten it all, either."

          "We'll definitely put him in charge of dessert, then."

          "So," Buck said, "gag gifts?"

          Chris grinned.  It was what Buck had done at his "daddy shower," and he'd gotten a kick out of it.  "Yeah…"

          "You really sure about this?"

          Chris turned his head, meeting his old friend's eyes for a brief moment.  "I'm sure."

          "Poor 'ol Nate… he's not going to know what hit him," Buck said, an evil grin already beginning to form on his lips.

          Larabee chuckled.  "You never do with the first…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The rest of the trip to the ranch was taken up with a brainstorming session, both men finally deciding on their gifts for Nathan – gag and real.

          As Buck parked in Chris' usual spot, he said, "I'll fill JD in on the drive home.  You tell Josiah and Vin.  And I'll give Ezra a call when I get home to let him know."

          "Sounds like a plan to me," Chris agreed, climbing slowly from the truck.  His muscles felt like he'd just tried to complete a marathon, with two weeks of training.

          Josiah came over and helped Buck with Chris' stuff, which was deposited on the dining room table once they were in the house.  JD pulled in and waited in the car.

          "All right, I'm outta here.  Can't keep Miss Miranda waiting, now, can I?" Buck announced.

          Chris waved him out.

          Josiah saw the ladies' man to the door, then closed and locked it once he was gone.  Returning to the kitchen, where he found Chris making coffee, he said, "Buck said you two hatched a plan?"

          "Party for Nathan," Chris explained.  "Before the baby arrives."

          Josiah's face lit up.  "That's a great idea.  I'd been thinking about doing something like that, but I don't think we're going to get the garage finished before the little miracle arrives."

          "They picked out names yet?" Chris asked, honestly curious.

          "I don't think so, but I'm not sure.  However, I do think Raine's glad it's going to be a girl; she won't be faced with shooting down Obediah…"

          Chris winced.  "Ouch."

          "Tell me about it.  I told Nate it'd be a fine middle name – no one uses those anymore, anyway."

          "What did he say?"

          "Asked me what was wrong with Obediah as a first name…"  Josiah chucked.  "That man's completely clueless sometimes."

          "Aren't we all…"

          Josiah hesitated for a moment, wondering what, exactly, Chris was referring to, but then asked, "You have some name like that picked out?"

          "Me?" Chris asked, then shook his head, saying, "No…  Sarah decided we'd follow a formula – her grandfather's name, and my name, if it was a boy.  Her grandmother's name, and her mother's name, if it was a girl…  Laura Elizabeth…  Adam Christopher."

          Josiah nodded.  "Both very nice.  I was named for my mother's father, and my father's father – Josiah Edward.  To be honest, I'm glad it wasn't the other way around.  I don't think I could've taken being called Ed or, worse, Eddie."

          Chris chuckled.

          "Always wondered why m' mama picked m' name."

          The two men turned to find Vin standing in the doorway leading to the laundry room, a small gym bag in his hand.  Chris smiled.  "Coffee's ready, if you want some."

          Vin nodded and set his bag in on the top of the washer, then headed for the coffeepot.

          "Is Vin short for Vincent?" Josiah asked.

          Tanner shrugged.  "Birth certificate says so, but I don't remember her or m' grandpa ever callin' me that.  Every time I see it on my official paperwork, it feels like it belongs to somebody else, not me."

          "Well, she had her reasons," Josiah assured him.  "Naming a child… it's a sacred ritual."

          "Amen to that," Chris agreed, covertly watching Vin as he found a mug and then fixed his coffee.  How the man could stand that much sugar was a complete mystery.

          The three men sat down at the kitchen table with their coffee, Chris filling Vin in on the party plans.

          Tanner grinned.  "Gag gifts are okay, too, huh?  Reckon I'll have t' ponder on that for a bit, see what I can come up with…"

          "Oh, dear," Josiah said, shaking his head, "I think we just created a potential monster…"

          Vin's grin widened.  "Well, Grandpa always said if ya was gonna do something, ya ought t' do it right."

          "As long as it doesn't explode or permanently mark the recipient – or the physical location of the party;, namely this ranch – it's fair game," Chris told the sniper.

          "Ah, hell," Tanner replied, looking crestfallen, "nothing that blows up?"

          Chris grinned.  "I didn't say that."

          Josiah nearly choked on his last swallow of coffee.  "You two are bad," he scolded.  The profiler carried his empty cup to the sink and rinsed it out before slipping it into the dishwasher.  "Well, I better get going," he said, then pointed at Chris.  "Don't forget that the doctor said you should get as much sleep as you can for the next few days."

Larabee nodded.  "I was planning to take a nap."

"Glad to hear that," Josiah replied.  "Nathan and I will drop by tomorrow, so don't worry about trying to feed the horses in the morning.  Vin and I can do that while Nathan looks you over."

          Chris nodded, surprised that he felt no need to refuse the offer of help.  It actually felt good to know that his team was watching out for him.  "Appreciate it," was all he said.

          Josiah smiled and nodded, obviously pleased with the response.

          Once the older man was gone, Chris headed into the living room, easing himself down into his favorite recliner and reaching for the remote.  Vin came back just as Larabee managed to get settled, legs up, chair back, the news playing on the big-screen television.

          "That don't look like a nap t' me."

          Chris grinned.  "Well, maybe not, but it is resting."

          "I made some more coffee," Tanner said, looking doubtful.  "You want anything t' eat?"

          Chris thought for a moment.  He was a little hungry.  "I've got some frozen lasagna in the fridge.  It's from Bono's."

          Vin smiled.  Bono's Italian Takeout was one of the sniper's favorite places for pasta.  "Sounds good t' me.  I'll go stick it in the microwave."

          Chris watched the man go, his gaze drawn to the sway of the sniper's ass.  He blinked and shook his head, blushing mightily.  _Damn, Sarah, I hope you and Sam are right about.  If he turns me down…_

          _He won't_ , he heard Sam say, then listened as the sounds of Sam and Sarah giggling faded away.  He huffed out a breath.  It just wasn't fair when ghosts conspired against you.

          But still, what if Vin didn't want—

          _Oh, hell_ , he thought.  He knew exactly what Vin wanted.  The only problem was, he wasn't at all sure how to let the man know he was willing to give it a go…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The rest of the day passed quickly, Chris discovering that he ran out of energy far quicker than he wanted to, forcing him to bed several hours earlier than usual.  As he lay in the darkness, he noticed the empty feeling of the large, king-sized bed.  Once that had been a feeling he'd used to remind himself of what he'd lost, but now it was like a cold spot that needed warming, filling, and the one who could warm it was lying in a bed in the spare bedroom down the hall.

          It was like he was craving Vin's presence…  And he supposed that was exactly what he was doing.

The afternoon and evening had been… good… right… comfortable…

          No, it had been homey, he realized.  It had felt like the ranch was a home again for the first time since Sarah and Adam died.  Because Vin was there.

          He smiled and chuffed out a laugh in the darkness.  "You're both enjoying this, aren't you," he whispered.

          There was no answer, but then he didn't need one, either.  He knew Sarah and Sam were enjoying this.

          "Fine," he said, still in a whisper – it wouldn't do for Vin to hear him talking to ghosts, or to himself.  "I give up, okay?  I love him, and the idea of making love to him… is growing on me.  But how the hell do I tell him that?"

          He waited.

          "Suggestions are welcome," he prompted, but there was no reply from the other side.  "Some help you two are," he grumbled, rolling over onto his side and pulling the blankets up around his neck.  Moments later, he was sound asleep.

          At the foot of his bed Sarah glanced over at her bother.  _Think we ought to help him?_ she asked.

          Sam shook his head.  _Naw, it’ll be more fun to watch if he has to figure it out on his own._

          Sarah smacked his shoulder.  _You're not going to watch too much, Samuel Connelly_.  Then she grinned.  _But, I have to admit, I am a little curious myself…_

          _Oh, no, you don't_ , Sam replied.  _If I can't watch, neither can you!_

The pair faded into the darkness.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The following morning, Josiah and Nathan arrived, just as promised, the profiler and Vin going out to deal with the horses while Nathan did his due diligence, checking Chris over.

          Larabee sighed.  "I told you, I feel fine."

          Nathan looked doubtful, and had several questions he wanted answered.  The blond complied, more out of gratitude than anything.

          Finally, Nathan took a step back.  "Well, it looks and sounds like you're doing great," he concluded.

          "Thank you, Dr. Welby."

          Jackson grinned.  "Wait 'til you get the bill."

          Chris grinned back.  "Why don't we go see what's available for breakfast?  Vin and Josiah are going to be hungry when they get finished with the horses."

          Nathan nodded.  "Sounds good."

          Once Chris was dressed, they headed to the kitchen, Chris explOrring the refrigerator to see what Buck had stocked for him.  He pulled out eggs, some frozen sausage patties (turkey, which he knew had to be Nathan's doing), and a tube of eight biscuits.

          Nathan didn't look altogether pleased, but he didn't say anything as Larabee set the items of the countertop.  "You want some help?" the Black man asked.

          "No, I'll be fine," Chris replied.

          Nathan nodded.  "Well, then, I guess I'll go see if Josiah and Vin need any help."

          "Tell 'em breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes," Chris instructed as Nathan headed outside.

          "And the heart attacks in fifteen years," the medic mumbled as he closed the door.

          Chris grinned and started the rapid preheat on the stove.  He looked up and glanced around the room.  "If you guys are still watching…  They are family… I know that… guess I always have…  Feels pretty good, to tell you the truth."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The next two weeks passed in a basically carefree manner for the members of Team Seven.  With Chris recuperating, the team was on an official stand-down, so they were able to use the time to finish off their paperwork, order supplies, and use some vacation time.  Homes were cleaned and restocked, projects were completed, and women were wooed.

For Chris, the time was very much like a vacation.  After the first week, during which time he actually completed his own paperwork, Larabee started helping with the chores around the ranch again, slowly rebuilding his strength.

Between him and Vin, and drop-in visits from the rest of the team – on a daily basis – the ranch was also cleaned up and set right.  In fact, after two-and-a-half weeks, the only things left to do were major, long-term projects that Chris didn't plan on starting anytime soon, and the completely vacation-like activities of horseback riding, fishing, walks and the like.

It was enough that he'd considered that it might be time he buy himself a dog.  If Vin hadn't been there almost the entire time, he would have gone stark raving crazy from the sheer normalcy of it all.  But, he had to admit, it did feel good to get "caught up" on his life, both at work and at home.

The time had also given him an opportunity to slowly pry Vin's story out of the reluctant man.  And it hadn't been one-sided conversations.  Chris had shared as much with Vin as Vin had shared with him.  And, in the process, their friendship had grown and deepened.  Neither of them ventured too close to expressing how he actually felt about the other, but that didn't matter.  Those feelings were expressed in a hundred small ways each and every day.  So, by the end of the third week, both men had grown completely comfortable around the other, jokes and jibes, smiles and back-slaps, dreams and ambitions passing between them as naturally as the breaths they drew.

Looking over at Chris, who was stretched out on his padded Adirondack and ottoman, sipping on a cup of coffee as he watched the sun setting behind the mountains, Vin smiled.  Tanner was in one of the Adirondack "easybac" chairs, working on his own cup of coffee.

"So, you come up with what yer gonna get Nathan?" Vin asked.

Chris nodded.  "You?"

"Yep."

Silence fell, neither man intending to share his secret before the party.  After several seconds, both chuckled.

"Well, guess I'll just have t' wait 'n' see if ya come up with a good one."

"I guess you will," Chris replied, his eyes dancing with evil merriment.

"When you reckon ya want t' go buy it?"

"Tomorrow sound good to you?"

Vin nodded.  "Would't mind stoppin' by m' place… reckon I better clean out the fridge before somethin' escapes and the health department has t' condemn the whole building."

That made Chris laugh.  "You've got a point.  I'll help you clean up the place if you want.  We can stop by and pick up groceries for here on the way back from town."

Vin nodded.  "We do that, we might not get back out here 'til late."

Larabee shrugged.  "It's not like I have anything I need to be doing… 'cept catch that bear-choke trout we saw the other day, but I guess he can wait for the day after tomorrow."

That put a smile on Vin's face.  "Well, if we're gonna tackle my place tomorrow, then we might as well make a day of it day after tomorrow…  That monster fish is too smart t' fall fer that blue fly 'a yers."

"We'll see," Chris intoned, then added, "Okay, so tomorrow we give your place the vacation makeover, Tuesday we go catch that fish…  What do you think we ought to do Wednesday and Thursday?"

Vin smiled again.  It was all too clear that Larabee was ready to head back to work, but he wasn't seeing the doctor until Thursday afternoon.  "Well, I've got somethin' that'll help pass the time Wednesday," the sniper replied, then leaned over and grabbed a large manila envelope off the small table sitting nearby.  He leaned the other way to hand it to Chris, who opened it.

"You are a true friend, Vin Tanner," was the reply when the blond saw the two Rockies tickets inside.

"Y' just remember that, after y' had all them hotdogs and crap…"

"Oh, like _I'm_ going to be the one with a stomachache!  I've seen the way you eat, Tanner."

"What should we do on Thursday?" Vin asked, determined that he not give Chris an opportunity to harass him about his eating habits.

"Well, I guess I better check in with everybody, make sure we're on track for doing the decorations on Friday, and the party on Saturday…  And I wouldn't mind stopping at the feed store on the way back from the doctor's on Thursday."

Vin hesitated for a moment, then said, "Ya gonna be all right if he tells ya not to go back t' work for another week?"

Chris scowled.  "He's not going to do that.  There's no reason I shouldn't go back to work on Monday."

"And if he says no?" Vin pressed.

Chris huffed out a long-suffering sigh.  "Then I'm packing a bag and going… _somewhere_ for a week!  There's nothing left to do around here!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Luckily for Chris, the doctor agreed with him, although he insisted that Chris put himself on desk duty for two more weeks.  But at least he would be back at work, and, hopefully, they could dive right into a new case.

So, it was with real anticipation that the leader of Team Seven rose on Friday morning, ready to make breakfast for the small army that would be arriving for "operation decorate" that morning.

          Vin helped him and, by the time Josiah, Buck, JD and Ezra arrived at nine, they were greeted with waffles, eggs, sausages, and two full pots of coffee.  The six men sat down around the dining room table to enjoy the feast, swapping Nathan-is-a-nervous-wreck stories.

          "You should have seen his face!" Buck hooted.  "I thought he was going to kill that poor kid when he walked up and pressed his ear to Raine's belly!"

          "What's he say?" Vin asked.

          "Who?" Buck questioned.  "Nathan or the kid?"

          "Both," Josiah answered for Vin.

          Buck grinned.  "Well, that kid gets a look on him like he's concentrating for all he's worth, then… he says… 'Sounds more like you're gonna have a puppy.  I can hear growling sounds!'

          "Well, poor Nathan looks like he's gonna kill the boy, but Raine, she just smiles and says, 'That's just my stomach, sweetheart, I'm hungry as a horse.'"

          "So the kid," JD cut in, "he looks up at Nathan and asks, 'She's got a horse in there, too?'"

          The men broke into laughter, the stories continuing until they were finished, the dishes were washed, and the kitchen was cleaned.  Then, with fresh cups of coffee to fortify them, they started decorating, transforming the ranch into party central.

          By the time they were done, it was time for lunch, so they set out in their various cars for Yard House, what Ezra called "an upscale-casual eatery."  But it was the restaurant's claim to have the "world's largest selection of draft beer" that had made it a popular spot for the seven men – that and the fact that it was located in Lakewood, on the drive back to Denver from the ranch.

          All of them ordered burgers of one style or another, except Ezra, who opted for the blue-crab-cake hoagie.  Each man also tried a "new" beer, Buck and Vin opting for Bayhawk – Buck the "Beach Blonde" and Vin the "Chocolate Porter."  Chris opted for Rogue Dead Guy Ale; Josiah, Abbott Ale; and JD, Monty Python's Holy Grail Ale.  No one was disappointed, with food or drink, and they parted company after the meal.

          Returning to the ranch, Chris and Vin did a little work in the barn, then plopped down in deck chairs and dozed in the afternoon sun.

          Chris woke first and looked over at Vin, who was sprawled on his lounge, his arms up over his head, his legs slightly parted, one knee drawn up a little.  The sight of the man stole Larabee's breath away and, without really thinking about it, he stood and crossed to the sleeping man.

Peering down at Vin, it struck him just how young the sniper looked, but he knew Tanner would be twenty-five later in the year.  He shook his head, wondering, not for the first time, how Vin had managed to cram so much living into those years.  Most of it, he knew, hadn't been Tanner's choice.

          An unexpected surge of affection bubbled up inside of Chris and he leaned over and brushed a light kiss over Tanner's lips.  The contact ignited a firestorm of desire in the blond's groin and left his lips tingling.

          Blue eyes popped open and Vin stared up at him, eyes round and slightly unfocused.  "C-Chris?" he stuttered out.

          Larabee smiled, finding the mix of confusion and desire in the man's eyes irresistible.  He leaned over and kissed him again.

          Vin's eyes immediately dropped closed and he pressed up, meeting the kiss and returning it with a desperate abandon that set Larabee's blood on fire.  When he finally pulled away from the sniper, he saw that the kiss had had the same effect on Vin, whose hard-on was clearly evident under the tight jeans he wore.

          "Why…?" Vin breathed, refusing to move for fear that he might wake from the dream he'd suddenly found himself in.

          Chris smiled down at him and replied, "Guess I finally found the guts to do what I've been wanting to do for a while now…  Just wasn't sure how'd you'd feel about it."

          "Feel good," Vin replied, eyes still round and anxious.

          "Me, too," Chris admitted, his gaze dropping to Tanner's crotch.  Vin moaned softly, and the blond could see the man's hard-on jerk.

          "Damn, Larabee, don't y' know it ain't polite t' stare?"

          "Hmm," Chris replied, his gaze running over Vin's body in a way that made the younger man squirm.  "I was thinking it was time for supper, but now…"

          Vin pulled himself together and sat up, carefully.  "It is," he said, after he cleared his throat.  "We're gonna go eat something," he added, "and not what yer thinkin', either.  Then… if y' really mean it… we'll see about dessert."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Dessert, as it turned out, wasn't what Chris had expected, but it was… good.

They had gone inside, Chris taking out two small steaks, which he had tossed on the grill for them.  Vin had made Texas fries and salad to go with them.

          They had eaten out on the deck, the evening warm enough that they were comfortable with sweatshirts on.  They hadn't talked about the kisses, or their reactions.  They had talked about family, and commitment to it.  Then they had taken in their dishes and cleaned up.

          Chris had put on coffee, and Vin had gone to the living room, bringing back a bottle of bourbon so they could have café royals.  They had sipped their drinks in the living room, watching the gas fire as it danced.  There had been few words that passed between them, once they had finished eating, but then, he and Vin had never really needed many, anyway.

          Now, lying in his bed, Vin still sleeping beside him, Chris couldn't clearly recall who had made the first move in the living room.  All he knew was that he'd felt safe, and loved, and desired, and he hoped that Vin had as well.

          They had ended up on the sofa, which they had pulled over in front of the fireplace, naked, kissing, touching…

Sam had been right.  It hadn't been that different.

Of course, Vin had felt very different – hard and angular where Sarah had been smooth and rounded – but the feel of skin under his hands, the sounds of arousal, the way their lips had pressed, tongues dueling and exploring, that had all been familiar.

          Before he knew it, he had ended up on his back, Vin blazing a trail from his mouth to his weeping cock.  He had almost come when Vin placed that first light kiss on the tip, then swept his tongue over the slit, lapping up the pearl of precome that had blossomed there.

          He remembered groaning, his eyes falling closed, as Vin had taken him into his mouth…

He guiltily considered that it had been the best blow job he'd ever gotten.  All of his intentions had slipped from his mind at that point, his entire existence collapsing to what Vin was doing to his cock.  And he wasn't even sure, what, exactly, Vin had done to him, but whatever it was, it had carried him to heights he hadn't reached since he'd been with Sarah.

          When he came, it had been like his entire body had orgasmed, and, he decided, maybe it had.  There had been a few moments there when he hadn't been sure he even remembered how to breathe.  His cock had been skillfully milked dry, leaving him a boneless, quivering mass on the sofa, unable to move, to speak, or to think.  His cock had tingled with a glow that had swept over his body, opening parts of himself he'd thought forever closed.

All he'd been able to do was open his arms.

          Vin had taken the invitation, sliding up along his body, settling on top of him, their lips meeting again in a kiss that had been more promise than desire.  But the desire had been quick to follow.

          Chris had felt Vin's hard cock rubbing between their sweat-coated bellies, and his own spent organ had taken notice.  Before long, they had been humping against each other, their cocks sliding over one another.

          Chris had reached down, forcing his hand between them, grabbing their erections, his hand whipping up and down.

          Vin had begun to thrash, and, a moment later, he was coming.  The feel of the man's seed slipping over his hand, and down along his cock, had sent Chris over the edge for a second time.

          They had lain like that – Vin still on top of Chris, Tanner's check pressed against the older man's shoulder – for several minutes, neither of them speaking, their bodies slowly recovering.

Chris had finally pulled his hand from between them, resting it on one of Tanner's ass cheeks.  With his other hand, he had reached up and lightly run his fingers up and down Vin's back.

          It had been Vin who had finally broken the silence.

          "We don't move soon, we's gonna be superglued together… permanent."

          "Mmm," Chris had replied, his body shaking with suppressed laughter, "that doesn't sound like such a bad thing just now."

          "Will when y' see how dried semen works better 'n hot wax to remove body hair."

          That had sent him into a fit of laughter that had nearly resulted in both of them landing on the floor.  But, they had gotten up – just a few hairs lost to the process – and had headed straight to the master bathroom, where they had showered – together – then tumbled into bed, both of them falling asleep almost instantly.

          Now it was morning and, before long, the others would be arriving.  He and Vin needed to go grab their clothes from the front room before they did.  He frowned slightly, wondering how this new relationship might affect the team, but he just couldn't work up any worry.  It was what it was, and the others would deal with it, each in his own particular way.  But Larabee had no doubt that all would be well – he could feel that in his bones.

          Turning his head, he pressed his lips to Vin's bare shoulder.

          Tanner moaned softly and rolled over onto his back.

          "Morning," Chris greeted him.

          "Mornin'," was the sleepy reply.

          "We better get up and round up our clothes from last night, or Nathan won't be the only one who gets a surprise."

          Vin's eyes flew open and he bolted from the bed.  Chris chuckled as he heard the man head straight for the living room.  He was back a few moments later, his arms full of the discarded items, which he took to the laundry basket and dumped in.  Then, his hands on his hips, he said, "Well, what're y' waitin' for, an engraved invitation?  Get yer ass out 'a bed so we can get a shower before they get here!"  And with that, Tanner disappeared into the bathroom.

          Chris shook his head.  "You're some romantic, Tanner…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The others arrived right on time, at ten-thirty, by which time Chris and Vin had showered, dressed, eaten breakfast and taken care of the horses.

          At eleven, the guest of honor arrived.

          Nathan knocked and opened the front door, stepping inside as he called, "Hey, Chris, you—?"  He stopped when a loudly called "Surprise!" echoed through the house.

          Glancing around the entryway, and at the various signs – "Congratulations!"  "It's a girl!"  "Surprise!" – Nathan's expression shifted from surprise to happiness.

          "Ah, you guys didn't have to go to all this trouble," he said, but he was grinning madly.

          "Oh, you haven't seen anything, yet," Chris assured him as he led the way into the living room, where more banners, balloons, streamers, and chains of paper diapers greeted him, as well as a stack of wrapped presents waiting on the coffee table.

          "Wow," was all Nathan could think to say.

          "Wow is right," Ezra said.  "It's clear that Mr. Tanner and Mr. Dunne were turned loose in here."

          "And we did a great job, too," JD added, grinning.

          Buck gave the youngest member of the team a light slap on the back of the head, then held out a beer to Nathan, saying, "Well, sit down and relax, Nate, it's time we got this party started!"

          After passing on every scrap of information he had on Raine and the baby, Nathan followed the others out onto the deck, where steaks were put on the grill.  As the guest of honor, Nathan was given the best chair and another beer, and told to sit and enjoy himself while the rest of them went about preparing a huge lunch, which they ate outside.

          Once the meal was over, they returned to the living room and, armed with coffee and desserts, they settled in to watch as Nathan opened his gifts.

          Nathan rubbed his hands together for a moment, then leaned over and picked the smallest of the boxes.  He leaned back with a grin on his face and asked, "Okay, who's this one from?"

          "Uh, that one's mine," JD replied, looking a little nervous.

          Nathan opened the flat shirt box, then pulled out a pink T-shirt, which he held up for the others to see.  On the front, it said:  "Daddy-O Rodeo" and, on the back, there was an image of a saddle for the little one to sit on while she rode Daddy's back.

"That's real cute, JD, thanks," Nathan said, clearly imagining what it was going to be like to have his daughter playing cowgirl on his back.

          "You like it?" Dunne asked, sounding relieved.  "I wasn't sure what to get, and when Casey saw that…"

          "I think it's great.  Really," Nathan told him.  "You can thank Casey, too."

          "I will," JD replied, beaming.

          Nate reached over and picked the largest of the boxes and opened it next.  Inside he found the "Diaper Dootie Tool Bag," which proudly listed twenty-two useable and practicable items, including rubber gloves, a clothes pin for the nose, and a pair of plastic goggles.  Everybody laughed as Nathan read off the entire list of contents.

          "And who do I have to thank for _this_ one?" Nathan asked.

          "That would be me," Buck announced.  "Good luck… Mister Mom."

          "Think I might need it," the Black man mumbled as he pulled out what looked like a fake nipple from the tool bag.  He quickly dropped the item and reached for the next gift.

          In the next box was an adorable yellow rabbit, with large eyes, ears, and a fluffy white tail.  Nathan pulled it out and set it on his lap.  "This for me or the baby?" he asked the men.

          "Both," Chris replied, reaching over to grab the toy.  He flipped a switch and handed it back to Nathan.  "Put your ear to it."

          Nathan did, hearing a heart beating.  "Let me guess, next you're going to tell me it's alive, right?"

          Chris smiled and shook his head.  "Sometimes it's hard to calm a newborn when they're away from Mommy, especially if they're breast-fed.  That's a recording of Raine's heartbeat, and I promise, it'll help you soothe the baby's cries."

          "But how—?"

          "Chris bought it and asked me to take it to Raine so she could do the recording," Josiah explained.

          Nathan smiled widely.  "Thank you, Chris.  At least _one_ of you gave me something I can really use!"

          "Hey, you can use that T-shirt," JD argued.

          "That's true.  It's real cute, JD."

          "And you're going to find out just how practical that tool bag is, too," Buck threatened.

          "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Nathan replied, reaching for the next box.  It was a foot cubed, but light as a feather, which made him instantly suspicious.  He opened the box with extra care, but, in the midst of the cellulose peanuts, all he found was a small, index-card-sized notebook.  Pulling it out, he saw it was a collection of "New Mommy Coupons."

          Nathan frowned slightly.  "Uh, I think this was supposed to be for Raine…"

          "Nope," Vin said, "those are fer you.  Ya know, so every time y' do somethin' wrong, or stupid, you c'n whip one 'a 'em out and you'll get out of the doghouse sooner."

          Nathan grinned, nodding as he flipped through a few random coupons, including ones for a two-hour nap ("while I watch baby"), a thirty-minute massage, one hour of help around the house, one trip to get a manicure…  "These are brilliant!" he enthused.

          Vin blushed slightly, but said, "Glad y' like 'em, Nate."

          "Looks like that just leaves mine," Josiah said, reaching over to hand Nathan the last box.

          Nathan opened the rather heavy box.  On top of more peanuts was a gift that made him laugh:  Ear plugs.  He held them up for the others to see, sparking off a round of laughter.

          Setting them aside, he dug into the peanuts and pulled out a beautiful, new baby memory book.  The cover was done in pale pink leather, and the pages were laid out to track the baby's life from birth to the start of kindergarten.

          "Oh, thank you, Josiah," Nathan said, smiling.  "You know how hard it is to think she'll be starting school in five years…"

          "It's goin' t' fly by," Vin said softly.

          "Wait a second," JD said, frowning.  "There's one missing."  He looked at Ezra.  "Did you forget to bring your present in?"

          "I did not," the undercover man replied, then reached into the pocket of his suit and removed a business card, which he handed to Nathan.  "A friend of mine," he explained.  "She's quite well known for her work."

          Nathan checked the card – Sally C. Photography.  The woman specialized in documenting maternity, live births, newborns…  Jackson looked up.  "I don't understand."

          Ezra smiled indulgently.  "I have asked Sally if she would be present when Raine delivers your daughter," he explained.  "She said she would be delighted.  All you need to do is call her when Raine goes into labor.  It's all taken care of."

          Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it.  He swallowed, then nodded.  "Thank you," he said to Ezra, then looked around at the others and added, "All of you…  This means a lot to me… knowing I have…"

          "Extended family," Josiah filled in for him.

          The Black man nodded.  "Being a daddy… I gotta admit, it scares the hell out of me, but…"

          "It gets easier," Chris assured him, "trust me."  Nathan nodded, and the blond reached out and patted his leg.  "You're going to do great."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          After the party broke up, Nathan was sent home with his gifts, the others de-decorating the house while Chris and Vin took care of the dishes and the kitchen.  When the two men were alone again, they took beers to the deck and sat in the gathering darkness, drinking, listening to the crickets.

          "You ever think about being a dad?" Chris asked, his voice quiet.

          "Couple 'a times," Vin admitted.  "Just couldn't see it with anyone I knew… or alone…"

          There was a long silence, then Chris asked, "You ever consider it with somebody like me?"

          There was a long pause, then Vin replied softly, "Reckon that's the only way I'd consider it now."

          The words sent a rush of joy and fear surging through Larabee.  He'd never hoped to entertain the thought of being a father again, and certainly never with another man, but with Vin, it was all too easy for him to see himself settled down – married, really – and looking forward to children…

          "Really?"

          "Really."

          They both laughed softly, nervously.

          "Sounds like yer askin' t' marry me, Cowboy."

          "Well, _reckon_ I might be… _if_ you stop callin' me 'cowboy.'"

          "Not a chance in hell… Cowboy."

          Chris sighed, loudly.  "Figures."

          The silence fell again and they finished their drinks in the darkness.  Then, before he lost his nerve, Chris asked, "So, will you marry me?"

          "Soon as it's legal," Vin replied.

          Chris chuffled.  "That could be a while."

          "Mmm," Vin replied.  "Reckon that means we'll have t' live in sin 'til then."

          "Yeah, I guess we will," Chris replied, grinning.  "Guess that means it's a good thing I ordered the _Joy of Gay Sex_."

          "You did?"  Vin sounded more than a little surprised.

          "Of course I did," Chris returned.  "You think I'm going into this blind?"

          "Mmm, blind… folded," Vin teased.  "I like the sound 'a that."

          "Kinky bastard."

          "Guess we'll find out."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          On Monday, Chris and Vin went back to work.  The atmosphere was relaxed, all the men joking around as they spent time with nothing of importance to do.  Then, late in the afternoon, a call came in.

          "Vin Tanner, ATF," the sniper said, grabbing the phone before Buck could.  "Raine?  What?  Yeah, okay, I'll tell 'im."

          Nathan was already on his feet by the time Vin hung up.  "Raine's water broke, Nate, she's on the way to Summit."

          "Water?"

          Josiah stood and clapped the Black man on the shoulder.  "It's time, Daddy."

          "No, it's not!" Nathan argued.  "She's not due for another ten days!"

          "Well, your daughter has other plans," Buck said, pulling his coat.  "Let's go, pard!"

          Ezra had his cell phone out and was calling the photographer as he headed out the door of the office.

          Nathan bolted to follow him, the others tagging after, all of them grinning like fools.

          Half an hour later, six members of Team Seven sat in the maternity waiting room, Nathan having joined Raine.  A nurse passing by stopped to look at them all.

          "Are you all expecting?" she asked, sounding a little worried.

          "Nope, just here for a friend who is," Josiah replied with a grin.

          She looked relieved, then smiled.  "Good friends."

          The six men passed the time telling stories, watching TV, and thumbing through the various magazines they found scattered around.  It was the photographer they saw first.

          "Sally?" Ezra called, coming to his feet when he saw the woman.

          She smiled and walked over to join them.  "Healthy baby girl," she said.  "It went perfectly.  They're taking the baby to the nursery and moving Raine into a room.  Nathan's going with her.  I'm going to go get some footage of the baby in the nursery."

          As soon as she was gone, they broke into hoots of excitement, getting loud enough that the nurse returned to check on them.  "You must be here for the Jackson baby."

          "We are," Buck said.

          "They're getting Raine into her room right now.  Let me go see which one, and you can go see her."

          "Much appreciated," Ezra told her.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          It was actually an hour before they were able to see Raine, who looked tired, but happy.

          "Have you seen her yet?" she asked them.

          "Our very next stop," Buck assured her.

          "She's beautiful," Nathan said, his eyes shining with tears.  He looked down at Raine and added, "She looks just like her mommy."

          Raine reached up and pulled Nathan down so she could kiss him.  "Go show them our baby," she told him.  "Tell them her name."

          Nathan nodded, then cleared his throat and stood.  He took a deep breath and said, "Come on, I have an introduction to make."

          They followed Nathan down two hallways to the nursery, where there were four babies in bassinettes, two in blue knit caps, and two in pink.  The small Back baby was sleeping, her tiny hands curled up just beneath her chin.

          "She's adorable," Buck said, grinning as he waved at the sleeping baby.

          "Buck, she can't see you.  She's sleeping," JD told him.

          "So?"

          Dunne rolled his eyes and sighed.

          "So, it sounds like you and Raine decided on a name," Josiah said.

          Nathan nodded.  "We did.  Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet… Tanner Christine Jackson."

          Chris and Vin both looked like they had been poleaxed.

          "Nathan," Chris said, "why…?"

          Nathan grinned, enjoying the surprise and pleasure on the two men's faces.  "Well, Raine thought it was the least we could do, seeing as how the two of you saved my life that day we crossed paths with this crazy sniper," Nathan explained, reaching out to give Vin a slap on the shoulder.  "If it wasn't for you two, I wouldn't be here to see her…"  His eyes filled with tears and he shook his head.  "Thank you," he said thickly.

          Vin stepped up and wrapped the man in a tight hug.  "Y' don't have t' do this…"

          "We want to, Vin, _both_ of us," Nathan added, returning the hug.  He stepped back, then shook hands with Chris.  He wiped his eyes and announced proudly, "I'm a daddy!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Chris told the others to go home, knowing if they went back to the office they wouldn't get anything done anyway.  Nathan would be on leave for a month, but the rest of them would head back to work the following day.

Glancing over at Vin, Larabee decided he knew exactly how he wanted to spend the rest of the day.

"So, you want to head home?" he asked Tanner.

"My place?"

"No, the ranch."

"Uh, yeah, sure.  We can go for a ride…"

"Exactly what I was thinking," Chris agreed.

          And, by the time they reached the ranch, Vin was starting to feel like an antelope at a watering hole – one that knew it was being stalked.

          They no sooner got into the house than Chris was on him, kissing him with that demanding passion that left his knees instantly weak, his cock instantly hard.  It was like dream come true, and there were times Vin was deathly afraid to trust it, but he knew what he felt in the man's arms.  Larabee wanted him, loved him.

          He moaned into the kiss, his hands reaching for Chris' zipper, but before he could get it undone, he was being hustled off to the bedroom, where neither man could get out of his clothes fast enough.  Then they were on the bed, their arms wrapped around each other, kissing.

          They hadn't made love since that first time, and their need and excitement quickly carried both men close to the edge.

Vin pushed Chris over first, sucking on one of his nipples as he jerked the man's cock with tight, fast strokes.

          "Gonna come," Chris gasped, and, as soon as Vin's mouth closed around him, he did, his hips bucking.

          Vin sucked him, tongue laving over the blond's softening member while Chris panted and shook.  But then the older man sat up and pushed Vin back onto the bed.  "My turn," he said.

          Vin looked surprised.  "Chris, y' don't have t'—"

          "Shut up and enjoy yourself," Larabee snapped, reaching out and taking hold of Vin's very hard, very needy cock.

          "C'n just jerk me off—"

          "One more word and I'll find something to fill your mouth," Larabee grumbled, then leaned over and ran his tongue up Vin's shaft.

          The sniper sucked in a sharp breath, back arching, cock jerking.  "Jesus, Chris, 'm so close…"

          The blond grinned and licked up the man's shaft a second time, then sucked the head into his mouth.  It wasn't something he'd ever thought he'd do, but… he discovered he liked it.  He liked giving Vin pleasure, liked knowing he could undo the man so easily.

He began to explore, to see what he could do, what Vin liked.  And, a couple of minutes later, Vin was shaking.  "Chris— Oh, God— 'M gonna—"

          Vin came, Chris holding his hips down against the bed to keep the man from strangling him.  Tanner's head thrashed back and forth, and he keened softly, his body lost in sensations he never thought he'd feel.

          Chris swallowed down the man's seed, surprised that it tasted almost sweet, and not at all unpleasant.  When Vin finally stilled, he sucked on the rapidly shrinking member, then let it fall from his mouth.  Vin whimpered softly, a sound Chris knew would forever undo him.

          The blond turned around and lay down next to Vin, then reached over and pulled the edge of the bedspread up and over himself.  Vin did the same.

          They cuddled, holding one another, drifting into a light doze.  As he felt himself slipping away, Chris worried for a moment that he should go get the book, then changed his mind.  No more by-the-book for him.  He'd go back to the way it had been before; he'd let his heart and his gut guide him.

And one thing was sure, when he woke up next, he was going to have that sweet Texas ass.  He drifted off, a smile on his face, Vin in his arms.

          And, at the end of the bed, Sarah and Sam sat, watching the two men, both of them smiling as well.

          _They are too hot for words_ , Sam said, shaking his head.

          _Tell me about it_ , Sarah replied.  _Love well, sweet man_ , she told Chris, then looked at Vin, who was staring back at her, sleepy blue eyes looking more than a little confused.

          _Thank you_ , she told the sniper.  _You take care of him for me, Vin_.

          Tanner nodded.

          She blew them a kiss, then brother and sister faded into nothingness.

 


End file.
